Treachery
by Freddo
Summary: In the year 2205, with Derek & Nova Wildstar reunited, the saga of Princess Invidia's rampage of revenge continues in Part 2 of THE NEW COMET, with further consequences for Earth and Gamilon.
1. Chapter 1

**ALTERNATE TALES OF THE STAR FORCE**

**STAR BLAZERS****---****TREACHERY **

**Being the second part of _THE NEW COMET_--- BY: Frederick P. Kopetz**

* * *

This Act is being completed with the Cooperation and Assistance of Derek A.C. Wakefield (as usual)---_Freddo_

* * *

**ACT ONE: (RE) ENTER DESSLOK**

* * *

**I. THE PRESENT**

**The Small Magellenic Cloud**

**Planet Ashura Five**

**The City of Carondus**

**Earth Date: Thursday, July 11, 2205**

**2345 Hours: Earth Time**

**

* * *

**

"Leader Desslok," said Dekal Varanda, the President of Planet Ashura. "I am pleased to inform you that my councilors have found thatthe evidence you have presented to us is persuasive."

"And?" asked the tall Leader of the new, reborn Gamilon-Garuman Empire. "I mean no disrespect, but we have been patient while your councilors bandied about the point for which you asked us to come here for three of our weeks. We know that some of you have had misgivings about again establishing bonds of friendship and protection with my Empire. However, it tries my patience to be asked for our protection and then to have to wait upon the will of your politicians."

"He speaks for me, too," said Queen Astrena of the Pellian Federation; the woman who was now Desslok's Consort. "Do we have an agreement today, or do we leave?"

"I am pleased to inform you that my councilors have agreed to _my_ request that Ashura again rejoin the Gamilon Empire. We would again like to sign a new treaty and again be at your service, Lord."

Desslok liked this. "Excellent, President Varanda. Although we learned long ago that the biological and geophysical conditions here would not allow us to settle here, we were able to use your world as a great military base for the replenishment of my fleets. I am again pleased to inform you that Ashura will be so honored."

"And, we are again ready to join forces with your people Desslok; especially in light of the invasions we endured in the past few years. Invasions by the Cometines, followed by a mass invasion by the R'Khell fanatics some years after that. We found life under your peoples' protection to be better than life under the protection of Zordar or the protection of the R'Khell priests."

"We are very glad to hear that," said General Talan, Desslok's long-time aide. "When can we begin to rebuild our old bases?"

"In three local days' time, after the treaty is signed."

"We don't have time for such niceties," said Desslok. "I have intelligence that a Cometine fleet may be on its way here as we speak. I need to be going. I would prefer that we leave here on the morrow, and that I leave a garrison behind to begin construction."

"Excuse me, please," said Varanda with a bow. "I will be back in a moment."

"Do not let that moment be too _long_," said Desslok. "The wait tries my patience when speed is called for. In fact, with all respect, we have waited too long already."

"Please...our ways," said Varanda.

"Have at your local ways, then," said Desslok. "Be advised that my patience runs _thin_."

Varanda bowed and left. "Leader Desslok, we don't have time for this!" said Talan. "Their forces are smaller by far than ours. If they will not give us an unqualified yes, then the word is no. And, in that case, I stand ready to invade this stiff-necked world. These people are worse by far than the Terrans. At least those inferiors can see reason."

"I have advised you, Desslok, to attempt diplomacy," said Astrena.

"Lady, the time for diplomacy is running out," said Talan. "Permit me to leave and give the order. We can have this planet interdicted with a mine field within hours. Then, we can begin with our carrier forces."

"Astrena, I listened to your council," said Desslok. "I agreed with you that our new Empire should be different than in the old times."

"You did not allow me to finish, _either_ of you!" said Astrena. "There is a time to make peace, and a time to make war. In wartime, even I see that there are times when one must be forceful. I am even now probing the mind of their President. There is duplicity there. The man is hiding _something_."

"And you would advise?" said Desslok.

"Give him a chance to see if he makes good. If there is further delay," said Astrena, "Then, act as you see fit."

"We wait upon your orders, sir," said Talan.

"I shall give diplomacy one last chance," said Desslok. "But, Talan."

"Yes?"

"Ready the fleet to move upon my word. Return to the _Gamilstadt_ now and ready our captains."

"As you wish, sir," said Talan. He motioned to four of his guardsmen. "You come with me. The rest of you, guard the Emperor and Empress."

"Interesting," said Desslok. "What do you suspect?"

"The same thing I do," said Astrena as she turned sharply to Desslok, with her blond locks gleaming in the dim light.

"Treachery, Leader Desslok," said Talan. "The sooner you are out of here, the better we will be. I hope you will return to the Fleet tonight. We can send our lesser ministers to deal with the paperwork. I will ready the landing force. Whether they return here in war, or in peace, is your command, sir." At that, Talan saluted. Desslok returned the salute, and Talan left.

* * *

"So, you heard that, Mister President?" said Mehrvis, one of the Ashuran President's Councilors. Unknown to Desslok, but suspected by him, the President's office was bugged as the Ashuran Council listened from another room. "I would advise you to delay no further. They are serious." 

"They are just as evil as they were in the past, Mister President," said Gavna, another Councilor. "I advise you to rip up the treaty and order them off-world posthaste."

"No. That is _madness_," said Mhervis, another one of Varanda's Councilors. "They outgun us three to one. Give them what they want; assent to the treaty. We can make money off the trade. And it would improve the local economy."

"To be enslaved?" asked Gavna. "That would improve the economy?"

"We were through worse with the Gatlantians and the R'Khells," said a female Councilor named Prada. "At least Gamilon was equitable in the past. Come, President. See reason and give them what they want. Better to bow the knee a bit now than to deal with war later. Although they are changed, they are still dangerous if provoked. And you _do_ recall his father's war, do you not?"

"Desslok's father," said Brickna, yet another Councilor. "A pompous madman, bringing the boy to negotiations to be his stick. Now, we have the son to deal with. He was dangerous then, and he is dangerous now."

The other two Councilors sat in silence. One of them, another woman named Katrina, said, "I am with Prada, President. Not with Gavna and Brickna. Mehrvis, tell them they get what they want, as you propose."

"President, I would advise the same," said Mehrvis.

"Well, Enda?" asked the President. "We haven't heard from you, yet."

Enda, the eldest of all, said, "I am with the others in favor of the alliance. But do not execute it today. Tell them that they will receive what they want if they but remain here until tomorrow. Tell them we need time to at least secure the rest of the Palace and give Desslok and Astrena the protocol they deserve."

"Four to two," said Varanda. "Come out with me, then. We tell the Gamilons that they will have their treaty executed on the morrow. Then, they shall commence the landings to re-open the bases."

"Not what I want, but I guess I have to accept it," snapped Brickna.

* * *

"And that is the word of the Council," said President Varanda to Desslok a few minutes later after he smoothed his mustache and braids of office. "We shall conclude the treaty with a ceremony in the morning tomorrow." 

"I would have preferred your word _tonight_," said Desslok. "But, I think our troops can ready more supplies in the meantime. Have the bases cleared as soon as possible. The troops will begin to land as soon as the treaty is signified by both of us. And then, I will have to leave. Affairs on the rebuilt Gamilon require my attention. I am sure you understand."

"I give my word," said Varanda. He extended his hand as some of the Council bowed their heads in thanks, and others glared at Desslok. Astrena noticed the glares.

Desslok took Varanda's hand. "Your word, then, is your oath?"

"It is," said Varanda.

"You are aware, of course, of what we do to oath-breakers," said Desslok with a sly smile.

"I shall not perform as such," said Varanda.

Desslok nodded, and the two men shook hands.

"Let us return to our quarters," said Desslok. "I am in need of refreshment."

"Let us feed you, Desslok," said Brickna.

Astrena looked at Desslok and shook her head. "No," she whispered. "We have our food. I will cook for you myself tonight"

"If you don't mind," said Desslok. "I prefer my Consort's cooking tonight as our feast. We have our supplies. Good night."

Desslok bowed to Varanda and turned with a sharp snap of his cloak. He motioned, and Astrena and the guards followed in lockstep. At that, they left the conference room in Varanda's ornate Presidential Palace.

"Let us celebrate," said Varanda to his Councilors. "I think we have just averted war at last."

"Have we?" said Brickna as he gritted his teeth. "There are others who can guarantee our safety, if you like. You know what _they_ are like."

"Brickna, may the rest of your hair fall out if you keep this up," said Varanda. "Your father was executed by the Gamilons? He was a rebel..."

"A patriot," said Brickna.

"Who would you have protect us?" said Enda.

"The strongest. There are others out there stronger than the arrogant Gamilons."

"Whom?"

"That is _my_ perogative to reveal," said Brickna. "Perhaps tonight, things will change? And then you will be ready to listen to me on the morrow? Hmh? Good night."

Brickna left.

"Enda?" asked the President.

"Yes?"

"Have him watched," said Varanda. "Just like we've been watching the Gamilons. Tell me at once if he does anything amiss. I will not sleep tonight."

* * *

Carondus was a crowded city, teeming with races from at least twelve worlds once again. It had once been a place of trade and exchange with Gamilon before the Empire had been weakened, withdrawn, and the Cometines had occupied the world in their place. Now, with the Cometines, and their successors, the R'Khells off the planet, Carondus was again opening up to trade. 

Brickna and Gavna were currently dirtying their robes of office as they drank in a sleazy tavern off a narrow side street; not the sort of place one would expect to find two members of the Presidential cabinet. Still, the strange place had a magnificent view of the city visible through several large windows. They nodded as two cowled figures in black robes sat down beside them and ordered drinks.

One of the visitors smiled and cast back a cowl at a signal from the other one.

"We meet at last," whispered the first figure. She was a figure seen previously in this tale; namely, our "friend" Colonel Schaza of the Cometines. "Have you arranged it?"

"You'll have to move tonight," said Gavna. "We only got him to stall and remain here for one more night. If your agents want him, it'll have to be tonight. And you'd better get our Council, too. I want to be the new President tomorrow morning. Then, we shall have your friend on the podium beside us signing a new non-aggression pact instead of Desslok. And the Gamilon Fleet will be free for him to blast into space trash with him Dreadnought."

"I pray so," said General Gernitz of the Comet Empire, the other visitor. "I want Desslok incapacitated, but _alive_. Kill him, and our new occupation will not go that well."

"Why do you want Desslok alive?" said Brickna. "I want his body dishonored here on this planet. Just as he had my father's corpse dishonored!"

"You're sure he did that?" asked Schaza. "That doesn't sound like Desslok. To him, dead is dead. At any rate, we have our orders. Princess Invidia wants him alive so that she can deal with him for previous crimes against the Empire. He is a rebel and oath-breaker as far as _we're_ concerned."

"We'll give you his wife," said Gernitz. "You can have her and hang her up for the birds after our agents finish with her."

"You know she is a witch?" said Gavna. "A mind-witch?"

"We have made peace with our own 'mind-witches'," said Schaza with a sneaky grin. "Have your agents incapacitate him. Our chief mind-witch of our own will deal with Astrena herself."

"And who is that?" asked Gavna viciously.

Schaza and Gernitz looked at each other and smiled. Gernitz whistled a certain way, and a third figure cowled in black got up from a side table in the back of the room. From the way the figure moved, Gavna could tell they were dealing with another woman. She had been sitting by in the back by herself with a big tankard of ale.

The woman sat gracefully upon another bar stool. All of her was cloaked in a distinct black robe trimmed in scarlet save for her hands and sandalled feet, which were light-skinned like the skins of the Ashurans. In fact, she was dressed in the habit of an Ashuran nun; the order to which she ostensibly belonged practiced poverty.

The "nun" cast back her hood and smiled. She looked very young, with brown hair that curled up in two small curls at her cheekbones. Her lashes were dark, and so were her hard eyes.

"It's good to live again," she said softly. "I was too long in the clone tank they birthed me out of."

"You are a clone?" said Gavna.

"A clone, and a ruler in exile, myself," she said in a low, mocking voice. "I have a lot of scores to settle. A lot of people mocked my Lord and his authority and killed me. Or, they thought they did. They didn't know about my own little escape plan. Not even Ekogaru himself knew of it. He was blind in the end. Better for him."

"You know of Ekogaru the accursed?" whispered Gavna. "By the Heavens, Brickna, by the Heavens, Gernitz, what sort of mind-witch is this?"

The stranger stood and raised her hand. Gavna began to choke. His hand went to his throat.

"Pray do not slur me in that manner again," she said as she stood dramatically before the skyline. Others in the bar began to make moves, but Schaza and Gernitz stood and backed up the stranger with their blasters near the two Councilors. "I am a Priestess and Vicar of an honorable religious order. I am Ekogaru's Hand. He still lives in me."

"Where are you from?" said Brickna. "Let him go!"

"All in due time," said the stranger, who ignored anxious glances from Schaza and Gernitz. "He will live. As for your question, I am from Earth. I mean to kill my so-called relatives in due time. But, humbling Desslok and killing Astrena will do for now. I have agents at the ready for Desslok. Astrena is _mine_."

"And what is your name? Mercy, let him go!" begged Brickna as Gavna began to turn blue.

The woman raised her hand and let Gavna collapse onto the bar. She glared at everyone else in the bar, who gave her a wide berth as she sat back down again.

"My name," said the woman, the woman who was a clone of her former self. "Is Yvona. And the rumors of my death have been rather _exaggerated_, hmmh?"

* * *

**TO BE CONTINUED...**


	2. Chapter 2

**ALTERNATE TALES OF THE STAR FORCE**

**STAR BLAZERS****---****TREACHERY **

**Being the second part of _THE NEW COMET_--- BY: Frederick P. Kopetz**

* * *

This Act is being completed with the Cooperation and Assistance of Derek A.C. Wakefield (as usual)---_Freddo_

* * *

**ACT TWO: TIMES OF TROUBLES**

* * *

**I. A PREMATURE RETURN**

**Space Battleship _Yamato_**

**Earth**

**Over the Tokyo Megalopolis**

**Friday, July 12, 2205**

**0607 Hours: Earth Time**

**

* * *

**

The _Yamato_ was cruising in for a landing over the Megalopolis; she was heading right for one of the landing pads with full jets on. It was early in the morning, and most of the crew couldn't wait to get home, although they were unhappy with the preemptory way that the search for the enemy forces had been called off.

"So why are we home already?" asked Domon.

"Easy," said Commodore Wildstar. "The Earth Defense Council is a bunch of jackasses. They think we're wasting money by searching out there, and the _Arizona_ is out there already, so since we didn't find anything past the beginning of this month, we can come home and be good and shut up."

"The _Yamato_ does need a refit," said Sandor. "She got pretty banged up out there; and we're still running a jury-rigged ship."

"Guys got any plans now that we got unexpected leave?" asked Eager.

"I spoke to my mother last night," said Nova. "She says we're long overdue for a visit, and my little brother and sister are crying to see me, so Derek and I are spending our leave in Colorado after we report in to the Commander this morning."

"You've got a little brother and sister, ma'am?" asked Domon. "Is your sister seeing anyone?"

Nova giggled. "She's a bit young for dating, Domon."

"C'mon, sixteen isn't that little."

Nova rolled up her eyes. "My sister Aurora is just getting out of training pants, Domon. She's two and a half."

"Your mom ain't that old, then," said Eager.

"No, she was young when she had me. She's forty-seven now, and my brother and sister are quite a handful," said Nova with a smile. "The delivery wasn't the easiest thing in the world."

"You were in there with your mom?" said Eager.

"We were stuck at her place around Thanksgiving of 2202 in a blizzard, right after the war with Rikasha," said Derek. "We couldn't get help when her mother went into labor, so Nova midwifed her own brother and sister into the world. She's pretty protective of those kids," said Wildstar with some pride.

* * *

Later that morning, General Singleton inspected the _Yamato_ along with General Stone. Everything was in order, and the ship received a fine readiness report; which Wildstar thought was good, considering that the ship was going back into mothballs again temporarily. 

Wildstar and Singleton shared breakfast together with Sandor aboard the _Yamato_ in the messhall even as the Star Force was being dismissed section by section and the ship was beginning to stand down inside her underground dock.

"I didn't agree with the decision to recall you, Wildstar," said the Commander. "This was one time when the Council outvoted me. And I know what you're thinking, Commodore. I couldn't get the decision reversed."

"Are you at least studying the information we sent back, sir? It looks like the Comet Empire wants another go at it, and so might the R'Khells."

"Part of their decision was news from the Gamilon Embassy. It appears that, according to the Empire, things are currently quiet out in space."

"Tell that to the Gamilon Ambassador," huffed Wildstar. "He must not have gotten on a ship recently and looked around our solar system. Any news from Desslok? He's got to know something, right?"

"The Ambassador said that Desslok is occupied signing a peace treaty with another world at the moment, Wildstar," said Singleton. "Anyhow, he wants you and Nova to attend a ball there together on the twenty-seventh."

"Sounds real exciting, sir," said Wildstar. "I can make sure all my medals are polished while the Cometines ready their next move. Maybe if they attack during the ball, Nova can use one of her slippers and a clutch bag to help me fight the green guys off."

"Wildstar, you're getting silly," said Sandor. "Sir, please understand that…"

The Commander took a deep breath. "Wildstar, I know you're worried; but we do have Venture out there, and we've set things up so that you'll receive a report during your leave if anything changes. When the _Arizona_ returns in the fall, I think we can get you back out there again, probably by the holidays."

"What am I going to be doing in the meantime?"

"I assume I'll be in charge of the repairs, sir," said Sandor.

"You will be in charge of the ship until I order you out again after the _Arizona_ comes home. As for you, Wildstar, you will be teaching combat at the Space Fighters' Training School until then. And I'm assigning Nova there, as well. I'm told they need a good Basic Exobiology professor and she volunteered for the job earlier when I talked with her. Anything else on your mind?"

Wildstar poked at his pancakes with his fork. "I'd better go back there and talk with Cookies, sir. These pancakes are terrible."

"Well, that's definitely _your_ job, Commodore," said Singleton with a slight grin.

"Yeah, sir. Tell me about it."

* * *

**II. TREACHERY OF THE WORST KIND**

**Planet Ashura**

**The Presidential Palace Guest Quarters**

**Friday, July 12, 2205**

**0704 Hours: Earth Time**

* * *

The changing of the guard was taking place outside of Desslok and Astrena's suite in the guest wing of President Varanda's palace. 

Gamilon women of the Emperor's personal guard were assigned to guard Desslok. As three women left, three others in Gamilon personal guard force/concubines' uniforms saluted and took their places near the door. To the guards who were going off-duty, nothing looked amiss; even the fact that one of the women was wearing a hood over part of her face didn't look unusual to them. What could be seen of her face looked a normal, healthy blue color, and the woman looked just like Commander Inge Gernan, at any rate. Everyone knew that Gernan was well-regarded by Desslok, and had been ever since the events surrounding the taking and recapture of the Gamilon battle carrier _Farushar_ during the Rikashan War. She had considered it an honor to serve a tour of duty as head of Desslok's guardswomen.

But, at the moment, the real Gernan was lying unconscious in a room in another part of the palace; she had been beaten in hand-to-hand combat with several men and women who had finally knocked her out. Another woman had taken her place.

Now, that woman lowered her hood, and smiled. With the hood down, it was very clear that this was really Yvona Josiah in blue makeup and an eyepatch that matched the real Gernan's eyepatch.

"Are you and Trisha set, Schaza?" whispered Yvona.

The Cometine officer, disgusted at being in blue Gamilon makeup, nodded at Yvona. "I hate this grease on my face."

"We can rid ourselves of it after Desslok and Astrena are dead," said Yvona. "Schaza, you take Desslok. I will deal with Astrena."

"What will I do?" said Trisha.

"Kill the Heir," said Yvona. "It should be easy to kill a three-year old child. After all, I believe that Dellar knows little of combat? Let us enter."

The three women opened the heavy wooden doors and quietly stole into the outer room of the suite. It was dark, empty, and still quiet. Yvona led the way; she listened at another door for a moment, and then, she smiled after listening at the door.

"The bedroom," she said. "They still sleep. Follow me."

Yvona opened the door with her telekinesis. The cloned woman then looked around, and smiled at the sight of Desslok and Astrena sleeping in each other's arms in a large bed. Their son, Dellar, slept nearby in a small alcove. Trisha, the third assassin, smiled as she saw that the boy slept with a small knife in his hand. _It must be a toy_, she thought. The blond little boy muttered something in his sleep as he kicked away the covers, revealing a well-toned body for a three-year old, clad in only a little black loincloth for sleep.

Schaza noticed Desslok sleeping in black pajamas. She almost drew her dagger, but Yvona stayed her hand with a gesture, and then she tiptoed around to Astrena. The long-haired beauty slept in a filmy white nightgown, and she looked very vulnerable.

_This will be easy_, thought Yvona. The Terran clone then used a trick that she had learned from Ekogaru, and she reached out with her powers, intending to dispatch Astrena with a slow telekinetic choke-hold that she could apply from across the room. She raised a hand as she began to choke Astrena in her sleep.

The sleeping woman stiffened, and then, she rapidly sat bolt upright, disturbing Desslok as she did so.

The Gamilon Leader stirred, and mumbled, "What?" in his sleep. Then, he sat up and took in the scene just as Astrena somehow struggled awake and raised _her_ hand.

Yvona realized her mistake at once as soon as an invisible iron hand began to clench her about her throat. _Damn her,_ thought Yvona, _she's reversed it! _

_"Astrena?" _asked Desslok as his hand went for his weapon at his bed table.

"Assassins," snapped Astrena.

Schaza screamed, throwing herself up onto the bed with a drawn dagger. "Desslok, drop it! NOW!"

Desslok used his combat instincts to quickly aim and fire after he slapped away Schaza's dagger-hand. Schaza screamed with a hole through her.

Yvona turned to Trisha after she broke the choke-hold that Astrena had placed upon her. "Kill the heir," she hissed in a garbled voice.

"Yes," said Trisha. "Put that down, boy, this won't hurt very…"

"What won't hurt?" cried Dellar as he stabbed upwards; with the dagger his father had given him, and taught him how to use in some basic moves.

Trisha was not expecting an attack from the little boy; she fell with a stab wound to her neck. A shot rang out a moment later as Desslok then stood over his son.

"Good move," he said.

"Why'd you shoot, Father?" asked Dellar.

"To make certain she is dead."

"But I did get her in the right place. Didn't I?"

Desslok looked at the corpse. "You did, son. I am proud of you."

"Check Mother!"

"Yes," said Desslok as he turned just in time to see Yvona and Astrena staring each other down.

"You live," hissed Astrena. "Spawn of the Dark Lord, you _live!_ He did not die when the globe was destroyed in Earth's past!"

"What do you refer to?" hissed Yvona.

"Never you mind," said Astrena. "Desslok! Shoot her!"

"Gernan, have you turned traitor?" hissed Desslok. "I will kill you with…"

"Desslok! She's not Gernan! She's…"

Yvona then attacked Astrena with a psionic blast that left her befuddled. However, she was dropped to the deck by a blast from Desslok's pistol that took a chuck of flesh from her arm. Blood went everywhere.

Desslok smiled viciously and prepared the coup-de-grace as Yvona waved her hand…

…and vanished.

"What?" said Desslok. "Astrena, what is going on here? Where did Gernan learn to do that?"

"Not Gernan," said Astrena. "Can't remember who's she is…but not Gernan…Cometine or something…I…"

Desslok then went to the corpse of Schaza and wiped some of the makeup off. "Green…in makeup. So. The Cometines have infiltrated this world? Are you all right, Astrena?"

"Confused, but…"

"I'd better get dressed," cried Dellar.

"Yes, you should," said Desslok. "All of us should." Desslok then grabbed a phone.

"Talan?" he said into the phone; it was connected directly to his flagship.

"Yes, Leader Desslok?"

"They let the Cometines in here, and assassins have just tried to kill myself, Astrena, and Dellar. They were disguised as my guard, the scum. Only one of them escaped. Get their President at once, and get me Gernan. Find out what is going on with my guard, and ready our weapons."

"Sir?"

"After we leave here, we shall secure Ashura's obedience by other means. They shall be dealt with like the traitors they are."

"Of course."

* * *

**III. LEAVE TIME**

**Earth**

**Boulder****, Colorado**

**Flagstaff**** Pool**

**Friday, July 12, 2205**

**1421 Hours: Earth Time**

* * *

Flagstaff Pool was a public recreational facility on the western edge of town in the smallish city of Boulder in Colorado. Although some Boulder residents had their own swimming pools at home, this public pool was a popular meeting place for both young and old alike, especially on a hot summers' day like this one. 

"Ya know what's fun about leaves, Sticks?" asked Cadet Jere Marrable as he lay on a chaise lounge in a dark blue swimsuit.

"What, besides hanging out with your Uncle Pat and drinking beer?"

"Looking at girls. Especially blondes."

"Blondes," said Cadet Deke Wakefield in a mournful tone of voice as he lay there in his white and red Space Fighters' Training School swim trunks. "You know, Dawn had blonde bangs…"

"Why is it always Dawn this, Dawn that?" said Brew. "Deke, you have to look around a bit. Lots of cute blondes here who probably never heard of Dawn Westland or San Diego. C'mon, why don't you ask some lady for a date?"

"Not interested. And when your Uncle Pat and his son Mike brought us here, they said nothing about blondes. Just water and ice cream. And shit, I could go in for a swim again. Too damn hot lying on this thing."

"Deke, let me show you how easy it is to pick up a girl. See that lifeguard?"

"Yeah? The college girl with the Nova Wildstar-wannabe shag haircut, mirrored sunglasses and blue swimsuit?" Deke noticed her talking animatedly to a fairly well-muscled man in a Speedo with wet, dark hair and features somewhere between Asian and Caucasian who also wore sunglasses. "She's got a boyfriend, Brew. You're being silly."

"That can't be her boyfriend. He looks younger than she does. Shoot, I can tell by the way she's sittin' there that she don't dig younger men. Watch me score, Deke."

"Well, can't hurt, not since we have to go back to the _Rio Grande_ for the rest of summer training in a week," said Wakefield. "All right. I'll watch while you strike out."

"I won't strike out."

Brew walked up to the edge of the lifeguard's seat a moment later, trying to look _cool._ He grinned up at the lifeguard, who sat watching the pool with a whistle around her neck. The lifeguard smiled back, and said, "Yes? Do you need assistance?" in a crisp, low, authoritative alto voice.

"I was wondering if maybe you wouldn't mind if I bought you a soda, Miss."

"I'm not sure this is a good time for me to take a break. My relief isn't here yet."

"You mean you won't even drink soda while you're up there?"

"Nice thought, but it'd get in the way if I had to jump down off this thing to rescue someone." She noticed two boys at the far end of the pool trying to dunk a girl who seemed to be struggling, and she blew her whistle once. "Hey! Stop the roughhousing! Can't you two see that she's smaller than you are?"

"Uncle Jere," said a small African-American boy as he ran up.

"Uh, yes, Mike? Miss, this is my nephew, Mike."

"Hi, Mike," said the lifeguard in a cheery tone of voice. "You look worried."

"Well, those guys have been picking on my friend Staci all day. I've tried to tell them to stop, but they ain't listening to me. Mind giving me a hand?"

"I don't like it when people pick on my little brother or sister, either," said the lifeguard. Then, she looked right at Brew. "If you want to make yourself useful, make those two come over here. Like now."

"Now?" said Brew.

"Now," said the lifeguard.

"Will you do me a favor first?"

"What?"

"Have me over for dinner tonight?" said Brew with a big white smile.

"Ohh…I guess my parents won't mind one more over," said the lifeguard. "I have something to tell you, though. Okay. Get them to come over here, and…"

A moment later, the lifeguard caught a commotion and then, one of the offending boys was running over to her.

"What?" said the lifeguard.

"Miss, my friend won't stop pickin' on this girl…and…"

"You were involved too…I saw you. What?"

"She just went UNDER! She's swallowing water!" he screamed, breaking out in tears.

"Shoot," said the lifeguard. She took off her whistle and her sunglasses, threw them at Brew, and jumped right into the water from her chair.

It was then that Brew noticed the wedding band on the lifeguard's hand. He immediately felt like an utter jackass for trying to ask her out!

Deke noticed the scene, too. He half-noticed the lifeguard swimming towards the commotion with strong, secure strokes. _I'm closer_, he thought. He jumped into the pool, and swam over to where the girl was sinking.

Deke had grown up around San Diego, and he was an expert surfer and swimmer. He had little problem doing a quick dive, finding the sinking body underwater, and reaching for it. He got her head above water to reduce the damage just as the lifeguard swam up.

"Thanks," gasped the lifeguard. "Help me get hold of her…quick…"

Both Deke and the young woman worked together to get the girl ashore to the edge of the pool by a ladder. Then, as a crowd gathered, the lifeguard snapped, "Clear the way! We need to see if she's breathing!"

"She's not," said Deke as he got out of the water first.

"Okay. We've got to clear her airway…get her head back…"

"Doing that," said Deke.

"Not bad," said the lifeguard. She quickly cleared water out of the airway with a few expert moves and then put her mouth around the little girl's mouth and began to breathe for her. She began CPR, but Deke pushed her hands aide, since he knew what to do himself.

"Two…three…," gasped the lifeguard as she took in some air herself. "Got a heartbeat?"

"Not yet…I…"

"Then just do what you were doing. Where'd you learn this?"

"From my mom, who was a nurse, and the Earth Defense Academy. Where'd you learn? College?"

"Yes, and serving as a lifeguard in high school as well as several years out in space," said the lifeguard.

"Hey, she's gonna have us over for dinner," said Brew. "I…oops….something wrong here?"

"Make yourself useful and get a paramedic," snapped the lifeguard as she raised her head. Then, she spotted a figure in the crowd. "Derek!"

"Nova, what?" said the young man.

_Nova?_ Deke thought as he worked. _She can't be named after her, too old…_

"Commodore, make yourself useful and get some damn _paramedics!_ I have a drowning case here!" yelled Nova. "Sir."

"Hey, her chest is heaving," said Deke.

Nova then looked at the little girl as her eyelids fluttered open. "Oh, good, you're gonna be all right…"

"Staci!" yelled a young woman in a bikini.

"Mommy!" gasped the little near-drowning victim that Nova and Deke had just saved.

"Shhh, stay there," said the young lifeguard, whom, as Deke noticed, looked _very_ good in the thin blue wet tank suit that seemed to be painted onto her lithe form. Brew noticed in passing that plenty was showing through the thin, wet material, but the lady looked unaware of her appearance at the moment. "You're gonna have to see the doctor to make sure you're all right."

"What's your name?"

"Nova Wildstar, I…"

Deke was thunderstruck as he then fully realized that he had just been sharing resuscitation duty with a Star Force veteran, and one of Earth's greatest heroines. _Ma'am, what the hell are you doing here?_ he thought to himself as the figure he knew from textbooks sat there on her haunches shaking her wet honey-blonde hair out of her eyes. _Dawn always looked up to her, but she's smaller than Dawn was by about three kilos in real life_, he thought. _Holy shit!_

"Nova, I got the paramedics," said the young man in the Speedo as he ran up, followed closely by a chubby older man with a mustache in a black swimsuit, and a dark-haired woman who had a boy and a girl by the hand. Both little children had on water wings, and they looked scared.

Deke shook his head, and then he recognized the young man's eyes and immediately knew he was looking the famous Commodore Derek Wildstar right in the face. He saluted at once. "Sir," he snapped.

"Nova, who's this guy?" said Derek.

"Yes, who are you?" asked Nova. "Are those Academy swim trunks?"

"They are…ma'am," said Deke with a shaking voice. "Cadet Deke Wakefield at your service. This guy here is Cadet Jere Marrable."

"Oh, yeah, we were just reading about you two on the _Yamato_," said Wildstar absent-mindedly.

"Sir?" said Deke. "Us?"

"Oh yeah, you two are pretty-well known to us," said Wildstar.

"See what can happen to you if you're not careful in the water, David…Aurora?" said the dark-haired woman.

"Mom, this was an accident," said Nova. "We're having this guy to dinner tonight with Derek and the other cadet. They helped me out."

"Dinner?" said Deke.

"That is, if you're not doing anything," said Derek Wildstar with an absent-minded smile. "Is that all right with you?" he said as he looked at the dark-haired woman with the children.

Teri Forrester then said, "Yes, Derek. We can certainly have them over, after we all change, of course…"

"Uhh…fine," said Deke.

"And as for you," said Nova as she looked at Brew.

"Ma'am…uh…I didn't know who you were…or that you were married…."

"That's okay. What was your first name again?"

"Jere, ma'am….Deke, I lived with my Uncle Pat in the Denver Megalopolis for a bit during the war…"

"Wait a minute…are you Toad?" asked Nova brightly.

"Say what?" asked Deke.

"Are you Toad?" asked Nova.

"Yeah, I am," said Brew. "They call me Brew now…"

"Toad?" said Deke.

"They called him that in parochial school, because he was so little," said Nova. "Funny that we meet again."

"Why's that?" asked Derek.

"Derek, I rescued this kid from a fight when I was about eleven and was a hallway prefect in parochial school…long story. Mom, make sure there's room for him at dinner. And Toad, never mind what we talked about before."

"Right," said Brew, who didn't have the heart to tell Nova Wildstar he had never liked the name "Toad" in school.

"So, what do you two have to catch up on?" said Deke.

"Oh, lots," said Nova.

"And we've got some stories for you two cadets," said Derek. "Stories that might save your lives someday."

"Of course," said Deke. "Sir," he quickly added.

* * *

**IV. A NEW WAR**

**Planet Ashura**

**The Presidential Palace **

**Friday, July 12, 2205**

**1505 Hours: Earth Time**

* * *

"Leader Desslok," said President Varanda once Astrena had told him the story of what had happened that morning. "Please accept our apologies." 

"Apologies?" said Desslok as Talan and his other generals stood nearby; the Ashuran military had been surrounded and ordered to stand down by the Gamilons, who had superior firepower, at least as far as the Capitol was concerned.

Talan then said, "You offer Leader Desslok apologies? From _your _government?"

Desslok added, "Your government was responsible for my family and myself being placed in danger. Your government allowed Cometime assassins to assail me in my bedroom. I cannot have peaceable relations now with such a treacherous government. The only thing I shall accept from you now is unconditional surrender."

"And if we refuse?" asked Varanda.

Desslok calmly removed one of his white gloves and struck Varanda across the face with it. "Then you shall have what you evidently asked for."

"War, and with a full occupation," said Astrena. She then reached down and removed one of her sandals and shook the dust out of it. "I shake the dust of your world from my shoes. You are now enemies as far as Pellias and Gamilon are concerned."

"For this outrage, your planet shall be crushed, and you shall be considered slaves rather than allies. I see now that you were negotiating in bad faith all along," said Desslok. "Good day," he snapped as he turned his back on the Ashurans and their Presidential Palace and turned towards his shuttle, which was surrounded by his faithful troops.

"How shall we begin?" asked Talan in a low voice.

"Orbital bombardment. Begin with this city," said Desslok. "If they want war, they shall…"

"Leader Desslok!" cried Talan. "Into the shuttle, quickly!"

"What is it?"

"Cometine Scorpion fighters, sir. The war has begun. And they are the ones who have started it."

* * *

**TO BE CONTINUED...**


	3. Chapter 3

**ALTERNATE TALES OF THE STAR FORCE**

**STAR BLAZERS****---****TREACHERY **

**Being the second part of _THE NEW COMET_--- BY: Frederick P. Kopetz**

* * *

This Act is being completed with the Cooperation and Assistance of Derek A.C. Wakefield (as usual)---_Freddo_

* * *

**ACT THREE: WILDSTAR, WAKEFIELD, AND THE DENVER DELTA OPERATION**

* * *

**I. DINNER AT THE FORRESTERS**

**Earth**

**Boulder****, Colorado**

**The Forrester Residence**

**Friday, July 12, 2205**

**1828 Hours: Earth Time**

**

* * *

**

A clock ticked on the mantelpiece as Deke and Brew stood examining a bunch of pictures on the mantel in Karl and Teri Forrester's living room. Pat Marrable, Brew's uncle, had followed them, but he left after one brandy with Karl Forrester when his portable phone rang. So, Teri and Karl's guests were limited to the Wildstars (who were staying over) and Deke and Brew.

To Deke's surprise, there wasn't very much evidence here that one member of the Forrester family and one in-law were in the EDF. There were about fifteen pictures on the mantel, and only one of them showed Nova Wildstar in uniform; and the uniform she was shown in happened to be the EDF whites she had worn when working as Commanding General Singleton's adjutant at Earth Defense Headquarters. That picture stood beside a medal framed behind glass; Nova's first Sunburst of Honor. They were a little awed by that, since they had never actually seen the ornate eight-rayed decoration before at close range. To the right of that picture stood a wedding portrait of Nova next to Derek; she in her bridal gown, he in his black EDF peacoat and Star Force uniform.

"Look at this, he was just a Captain when they got married," said Deke out loud to Brew.

"You know there's a picture here of her _naked_," said Brew in a stage whisper. "Got her name on and all."

"Brew, she looks to be about…four months old in that picture, ya pervert," said Deke as both of them looked at a picture nearby of a baby girl posed on a big fuzzy rug on her stomach. And, she was, indeed, quite undressed.

"Yeah, but look at her buns," he said. "Woo…eee…"

"Not many pictures here of them in uniform or anything," said Deke. Some of the pictures were of Karl and Teri, some were of their youngest children, David and Aurora (including a tasteful picture in dim light of little David at his mother's breast) and the rest were of Nova at various ages, with some of Derek.

"I wonder who that is?" said Deke as he looked at an amusing picture of Wildstar sleeping on a couch in civilian clothes with a very small baby girl in a pink set of pajamas lying on his chest. The little girl's eyes were closed, but the lashes were long and luxuriant.

"I took that one," said Nova as she appeared behind them, startling Deke and Brew. She had changed into a white sundress and matching sandals which made her look a little more mature, but in real life, she still looked startlingly young to Deke. _Maybe it's the dress,_ he thought.

"Who is she?" asked Brew. "I never heard of you two having a child."

Nova just smiled enigmatically and said, "You're right. We don't have our own yet. She's very special to Derek and I, though. Sort of the baby of the family."

"What's her name, and where is she from?"

"Bit of a long story," Nova said as Derek and her mother stepped in, with Teri's face framed by a skylight in the kitchen. Karl stood by her a moment later, trying to look inconspicuous. Derek wore a polo shirt, shorts, and sneakers, while Teri wore a sundress similar to her daughter's.

Teri looked at her daughter and said, "Nova, I need you to check that pork roast."

"Mom, you've just put it in the processor. It won't be ready yet."

"Just go and check its progress. And could you help me with those potatoes?"

"I thought you had them peeled."

"I thought you promised in the car, Nova."

Nova rolled up her eyes. "Sorry guys, looks like I'm on KP in my own old house. Derek, if you want to help out…"

"I'll be in soon," he said. She gave him a peck on the cheek and flounced out.

"Nice medal," said Wildstar abstractedly.

"Yes, I am proud of her," said Teri. "But you know what I think of the military, Derek."

"Yes, I know."

Teri then turned to Deke and Brew and started. "I'm sorry, boys," she said. "I'm aware you're cadets…but…let's just say I'm not the biggest fan of the Defense Forces. I don't even like looking at Nova in that darn gold and black uniform very much."

"Why's that?" asked Brew, ignoring a tap on the shoulder from Deke that meant 'enough'"

Teri Forrester took a deep breath as Derek looked at her. "I know it's your profession and all that, but it's so _dangerous_. I know she met and married a very good man aboard the _Argo_, and that's about the best thing that came out of those cruises she was on, other than that she helped to save Earth."

"Ma'am," said Deke. "Do you think the Gamilons were just going to live and let live? That's why we needed the Star Force."

"That's why we _still_ do," said Wildstar quietly.

"I know," said Teri. "But does she have to do this forever; does she have to wear that gun around her waist forever? I do wish she'd enter medical school…settle down, have a family...so I can take a picture like this with my grandchild at her breast…"

Deke glanced at the picture again; in it, Teri was clad in only a lacy top with her legs curled under her while her son nursed in her lap; the baby wore only his skin. With her hair down, and her body semi-exposed, Teri looked a bit younger in that picture than she did now.

"She'd love to," said Derek, "But, her duties come first. I can't decide for her whether she's going to continue on as an officer or not. That's _her_ decision. I can't make up Nova's mind for her. That's a gross violation of her free will."

"Can't you get her to change her mind?" asked Teri sadly as she put the picture back beside one of David as a toddler in a suit. "Maybe get her to at least take a safer assignment? She's given enough already."

Derek shook his head. "She's over eighteen, Mrs. Forrester. Like it or not, she's not your baby girl any longer, nor is she mine."

"He's right, Teri," said a deep voice behind Mrs. Forrester. Karl had come in, followed by his youngest son and daughter. He was smoking a pipe as he said, "I thought we had this discussion long ago, Teri."

"Well, we did, but, still, I'm feeling some regret. Is Nova ever going to settle down? Will she ever…have a normal life?" sniffed Teri. She turned away quickly; Deke caught tears forming at the corners of her eyes.

Then, young David ran up. "Daddy," he said. "Why is Mommy crying?"

"Long story," sighed Karl. "You and Aurora go downstairs to the rec room. You can play video games until dinner's ready…"

"Did Sis save that kid from drowning?" asked Aurora. "She's really cool, Dad. I wanna grow up to be just like her!"

"_No, you're not_," sobbed Teri as she hugged Aurora fiercely. "I want you to promise you're not going to go into space!"

"Mommy, why is that a bad thing?"

_Yes,_ thought Deke sadly as he sighed to himself while drumming against his thigh with his drumsticks.. _Mommy, why is that a bad thing? Once again, reminds me of…Dawn…my past…._

* * *

**THE PAST**

**SAN DIEGO**** MEGALOPOLIS**

**December 26, 2201**

**

* * *

**

Dawn Westland stood at the door of Deke Wakefield's apartment in a blouse, short skirt, and boots. She was carrying a wrapped package of some sort, a package gaily wrapped in silver foil.

"Yes?" said Deke, who answered the knock.

"Hi, Deke," said Dawn. "It's me…Merry Christmas."

"Hi," said Deke in a rather low, depressed voice.

"How have you been doing?" asked Dawn as she closed the door. "I mean…you know, since…you know…?"

"I still have DJ here, Dawn. The gun is a souvenir of the action I was in with the Junior Space Cadet Corps…when we thought that the Cometines were going to invade and land. My CO let me keep it after we stood down…"

"I see," said Dawn as she shook her head. "I brought you this, in the hope that maybe we can make up…"

"Actually, I owe you something, Dawn."

"What?"

"A good day out."

Dawn smiled at Deke; it was the sort of smile that made him melt, and which had made him melt for years; given that they had grown up together and had been a romantic item for some time; so close that many assumed they would marry after they finished high school. Deke lived alone as he had lost both of his parents to the Gamilon War, and Deke and Dawn had lived together for a time. However, his talk of joining the EDF had caused Dawn to move out.

* * *

They had a good day together, and a very good afternoon. They had come to a sort of rapprochement which ended with them cuddling on the couch doing submarine races in an absent fashion. They had been with each other before, but it didn't feel right today, since they had been at odds the past few weeks. _Maybe it'll come again_, thought Dawn as she held Deke. _Maybe things can be like they were again…maybe. Then, we can jump in that room again, and…_

"Dawn, can we go outside for a bit?" asked Deke as he reached for his sneakers, then his drumsticks.

"Okay," said Dawn with a pout on her face. She kissed Deke again. She wondered if Deke realized how lucky he really was. Dawn was the sort of person who would make just about any man melt. She was somewhat tall, had an average but well-proportioned and comely figure, and had mid-back length medium brown hair, with her bangs bleached blonde. Her eyes were blue, and her nose was slightly large, but not so large that it distracted from her appearance.

She was gorgeous, and had a sweet but strong personality. And she was opposed to Deke's joining the military; as would become even clearer this day.

Oh, Dawn remembered her mother Lynn's words, all right, the words she had said back in November. "Dawn, he's been in JSCC ever since he got to high school. After everything he's been through, losing his father, sister, and his mother in the war, don't tell me you didn't expect him to join the service, did you?"

Dawn remembered arguing fiercely with her mother Lynn on this one. Oddly enough, (as Deke recalled in 2205 when he remembered hearing one of Dawn and Lynn's arguments on the topic), Dawn's mother had supported his right to join the EDF, while Dawn had opposed it. Deke remembered he had overheard that Lynn had noted how she had been avoiding the topic ever since the Gamilon War. She had asked Dawn, "who do you think you've been fooling? HIM?"

"Okay, we're out," said Dawn. "So?"

"Let's go towards the Rec Center," said Deke as he began to tap his drumsticks against his leg. "I have something to…show you."

"Hope it's not dirty," giggled Dawn. Deke just smiled at that.

"What are you thinking about?" asked Dawn as they walked together towards the local Rec Center, passing a series of townhouses that were going up.

"What are those?" asked Deke.

"Townhouses," said Dawn. "Part of the rebuilding. They're…Okay…I hear that transient EDF officers will eventually be living in those. So, they aren't slums. Fascinating."

"You think EDF officers live in squalor all the time?" asked Deke. "Granted, a BOQ apartment may not be the greatest, but…"

"Funny…they make those houses look…normal. Or almost normal."

"Looks like they're being built around a common yard and a pool," said Deke. "Now, I like the ocean better, but…"

"You'd settle for a pool? That doesn't sound like you."

Deke felt a shiver. It was unknown to him (at least on a conscious level) that someday, he would live for a time in one of those very townhouses here in San Diego, betwixt a friend and an enemy. But, let it be noted that we shall not reach that point until later in this strange little tale of Princess Invidia and her roaring rampage of revenge.

"Dawn, if you join the EDF, you have to make some sacrifices. I wanted to show you that sky. See it?" he said after he tapped his sticks against his leg again. "That's where I belong…"

Dawn brushed his hand off her skirt-clad thigh as if it was a bug. "Deke, do you have to be the one to make all of the….."

* * *

"…sacrifices?" demanded Teri Forrester in the kitchen as she and Nova worked. Something in the tone of that voice shocked Deke (who was sitting depressed in an armchair) back to the present. 

"What?" said Nova Wildstar in her low alto (which, to Deke, sounded oddly like Dawn's voice for a split second).

"I said, Nova, do you _have_ to be the one to make all of the sacrifices?"

"Derek, how long am I in the service for again?" called Nova.

"2211," called Derek in a distracted tone of voice; he was playing with his brother-in-law David near the Forrester's piano. "You just signed the papers when we landed."

"Thanks!" cried Nova. "You heard it from my CO, Mother; I'm in for another six years."

"You're _crazy!_" yelled Teri. "How can you keep on going into space like that? You've got to settle down and at least take an Earthbound position soon, if not start a family. The family is beginning to talk about you!"

"Mother, we've had this…."

* * *

"….discussion before, Dawn!" said Deke heatedly back on December 26, 2201 as Deke drifted back into his memories. He remembered again why he called his weapon…his Shetland…DJ. It stood for "Dawn and Jessica"—Dawn, his girlfriend (at least at the time) and childhood friend) and his mother Jessica. "I've made up my mind. I want to join the EDF. I want to fly." 

"And did your plans take me into account?"

"Yes."

"NO! I'm not gonna be a Navy Wife sitting in one of those ticky-tacky houses like some lump praying for you to come home!"

"No one asked you to sit there like a lump; and you can still pursue your…"

"My career as a flight nurse means I'd be in a hospital waiting for you to stop playing around on your spacecraft carrier or whatever they call it so you can come home. I'd miss you all the time. I don't want to live like that."

"…Dawn…"

"I want a full-time husband; not a part-time one. Sorry. I think…"

"What?"

"We spoke of you moving back in. Let's hold off on that, Deke."

"What? Until I grow out of this phase?"

"No…until you…."

* * *

"…learn to be responsible, Nova," said Teri. "You have responsibilities to the family." 

"_This is too weird_," muttered Deke to Brew in a stage whisper as he got his sticks out in the present.

"_What_?"

"_Their argument. Damn, she's sort of reenacting the fight I had with Dawn over four years ago_."

"_Yeah, but with her mama,_" whispered Brew.

"_And her mom Lynn always supported MY going into the service. Weirder and weirder_," muttered Deke as he began to drum his sticks against his leg.

"Nova. I said you have responsibilities!" yelled Teri Forrester.

"I have them, too! I have oaths I have sworn to my service, to my ship, and to my husband," retorted Nova. "Mother, I don't need to sit in here and hear this."

"And where are you going to take your guests?"

"OUT to eat. I can afford it. And then, we're staying in a hotel for the rest of our leave," snapped Nova as she took her apron off. "Derek, I'm not gonna stand here and listen to my mother talk to me like that! I'm over the age of majority!"

"Here we go again," said Derek with an amused smile.

"Derek, it's not funny this time!" said Nova. "Sorry you had to hear this," said Nova as she turned towards Deke and Brew and grabbed her hat and purse. "Our dinner plans are about to change. How's about eating at the Boulderado tonight? My treat."

"Can we afford it?" asked Derek.

"I can; just got paid." Nova gave her father a peck on the check and kissed David and Aurora hurriedly. "Sis'll be back another day. Derek, go to the guest room and get our things."

"Aye, aye, ma'am!" said Derek with a grin. Deke was surprised at this, but he sensed real affection between the Wildstars. Real affection and a sense of "us against the world" that he had seen in only a few couples before….

….like, once, between himself and Dawn back in their high school days.

"Why can't you stay NOW?" asked Aurora.

"Mommy put me in the doghouse. Again."

"Mommy, you let Sis out of the doghouse!" yelled Aurora. "She doesn't need to sleep with Princess!"

Teri smiled and said, "Nova's being bad, Aurora. We have to ignore her so maybe she'll calm down and see reason. C'mon."

"I'll see reason," said Nova. "When Hell freezes Over!"

"Well, I do hope you brought your ice skates," said Teri primly. "Have a good day outside of the fold, Lieutenant."

And then Teri closed the door in Nova's face.

"Well," drawled Nova, as she made a gesture that shocked Deke and Brew; namely, she pulled down one eyelid and stuck her tongue out at the door. _"& you_, too Mom! _With sugar on it!_"

* * *

**II. SHEEP OUT OF THE FOLD**

**Earth**

**Boulder****, Colorado**

**The Boulderado Hotel**

**Friday, July 12, 2205**

**1912 Hours: Earth Time**

* * *

"That was a little upsetting," said Deke as he sat on a bed in a suite in the Boulderado rapping out a cadence from marching band. Derek and Nova had checked in and taken a suite while Deke and Brew had been asked to follow them upstairs. 

"I've seen them argue like that when I was little," said Brew. "Nova and her mom were always like two rams butting heads when they argued. Funny, given that they're ewes, and not rams."

"Whatever," said Deke while he worked on his rudiments against the edge of the expensive-looking bed frame in the suite as Derek Wildstar took a phone call. "No, Mrs. Forrester," he said. "She doesn't want to talk. She checked us in here. Yes, I'm sorry. I'm not taking sides in this, though. She's here, but she's in the bathroom," said Derek.

His voice carried into the bathroom, where Nova had a bare foot up on the toilet lid; she was re-polishing her toenails before dinner_. Mom, would you give me some space?_ thought Nova. _No, I am not coming to that phone. No matter how much you insist. I am a member of the Star Force. Whether you like it or not!_

Nova was applying her lipstick when she heard Derek slamming down the phone; she gave him a thumbs-up. She had buckled on her shoes and was about to step out when she heard the phone ringing again. She made a guess and blurted out, "Is it mother?" when she came out.

To her surprise, Derek glared at her and held up a hand. "What?" she snapped.

"Sir, hold a minute. Nova, get the secure hand-held out of our bag! It's the Megalopolis! "Sir?" said Wildstar, "Yessir," he said as the room went quiet. "Recontact on Repeater Cipher Alpha Charlie Twelve-Fourteen; acknowledged, General." Deke stopped drumming, and Brew looked around as if he had just lost his brains. The cadets were thunderstruck, hearing such noted officers obviously talking to their superiors. Derek continued speaking to the party for a moment longer, and then he said, "Nova, when you connect the hand-held, put us both on through the headset."

"Roger," said Nova as Deke and Brew looked on. Deke said, "Sir, ma'am; if you need us to leave."

"No, we'll take it in the lounge and close the door. It'll be a few minutes."

Wildstar took the phone into the lounge with Nova while Deke wondered, "What the hell is going on?"

"Flag officer business, I bet. We don't have the clearance to hear it."

"Or Star Force business?" said Deke nervously.

Brew shrugged.

* * *

"Hello?" said Nova after she and Derek had made contact with the Megalopolis through their secure telecomm unit and had their identities and cipher codes confirmed. The call was a little scratchy because of the coding, but it was necessary since this had to be discussed on a secure line. 

"Commander, as I was explaining to the Commodore, we have a situation," said the unmistakable voice of Commanding General Singleton on the other end of the phone.

"Yessir," said Wildstar.

"Now that I have your attention and we have a secure comm line…" said the Commander. "Have you ever heard of the old Unification Wars storage facility beneath Longs Peak, about 50 kilometers northwest of your current location?"

"Yessir," said Derek. "Don't they have some of the outlawed DN-235 mobile units there?"

"Correct," said Singleton.

"Sir," said Nova. "What are DN-235's?"

"Mobile Intermediate-Range Ballistic Missiles on truck carriers with the stable DN-5 nuclear warheads. Those will last 150 years. They are mothballed but operational. We have four of them stored in the underground base at Longs Peak. Remote security systems have just told us that a Josiahite cell has broken into Longs Peak and is working its way towards the vaults. I can have three Marine platoons out there on the hardstand at the Boulder civilian airfield up from Denver in forty-five minutes. Also, it just so happens that Homer and Domon are on leave in your area. You'll lead the operation and one platoon, I'm sure you can assign Homer and Domon to command platoons in a pinch. There is a small medic and sensor unit that will be under Nova's command. Do you know of any other officers or skilled cadets in your area we can trust with this?"

"We do," said Wildstar.

"Where are they?" said Singleton.

"This hotel suite, with us," said Nova as she looked right in Wakefield and Marrable's direction. "They're in another part of the suite. We sent them out because they don't have the right clearance to hear material on Repeater Cipher Alpha Charlie Twelve-Fourteen."

"Names?"

"Wakefield, D., Marrable, J.."

After a quick pause, the Commander said. "Got their records. They're between training sessions right now, but I've cleared them for this mission. You can tell them about it now, Wildstar. They're yours."

"Roger," said Derek. He abruptly opened the door. _What the heck is going on?_ Deke thought as Wildstar stormed out. His thought was mirrored by the puzzled look on Brew's face.

"Secure call from the Commander, Earth Defense Forces," said Wildstar as he came out with the headset on. He continued to talk to the Commander while Nova sat running the cigar-box sized repeater unit on the other bed. Brew thought she looked awfully funny running a piece of EDF equipment in a sundress.

"What are you gawking at?" said Deke in a whisper.

"Legs," said Brew in a whisper as he pointed in Nova's direction; Nova didn't see because she was busy running the secure repeater phone, which had to be adjusted frequently to keep the satellite signal. "Wooo…eeee…."

"You idjit! They'll hear you. "

In the meantime, Singleton said to Wildstar, "The plane gets there in forty minutes. Get yourself, your support officer and those cadets equipped and briefed. Brief them on the way to the airfield."

"Yessir," said Derek and Nova.

They hung up, and looked at Wakefield and Marrable after Nova locked down the repeater unit for carrying. Derek said, "You two told me you have experience."

"Yessir, we do," said Deke as he gulped.

"We need it. Do you have combat fatigues with you?" he asked as Nova began to undo her sandals and grab at a duffel bag.

"We do, but…"

Nova smiled and shut the bathroom door, carrying her bag.

"Get into them now. I see you have a weapon, Wakefield," said Derek with a sly grin as he looked into his bag and saw DJ. "You must have been psychic. You'll take that for backup."

"Sir, what's going on?" said Marrable as he pulled off his polo shirt.

"A situation," said Wildstar. "You'll be briefed on the plane. We're about to go into action. I'm giving each of you a squad. I'm sure you know small-unit tactics well?"

"We do," said Deke. "Sir, who is it?"

"Josiahites."

Deke's eyebrows went up.

"And if we don't act, this whole metroplex could disappear with us in it…"

* * *

"Nukes," said Deke unbelievingly in the car as Wildstar sped to the airfield. 

"Four of them," said Wildstar. He was in green fatigues, and so were Nova and the others. The hotel had allowed them to slip out through a service elevator. Nova was actually back on-line again, this time with the EDF Airbase in Denver. Nova said, "Derek, they just received a note in the Megalopolis. It reads: "_Surrender us three capital ships now, or face the destruction of four cities on the North American Continent. We can expect to destroy the Denver Metroplex in two hours if our demands are not met. Signed, the Spirit of Yvona the Prophetess, speaking through Her Josiahites_, and all that other crap…"

"Can't be her," said Derek. "I was there when you killed her."

"Derek, they said her Spirit, not her. They think she is still alive."

"What do these wackos believe?" asked Brew.

"They believe that Ekogaru was the Second Coming," said Wildstar, "and they believe that the R'Khell and Technomugar were the angels of God. They have explained away the change of allegiance of the Rikashans to the Alliance by quoting that bit from Revelation where the devil drew down one third of the stars of Heaven with his tail."

Derek paused together his thoughts while Nova said, "We'll be at the airfield in five minutes. "They have the landing boats on the way. The police have secured the field."

"Got it. Anyway," said Derek. "Yes. Those wackos. They said Revelation means one-thirds of all aliens joined the devil's side, including the Rikashans. They believe that the Gamilons, Cometines, Iscandarians, people of Telezart and the Pellians were all demons led by Satan; that the imperialist races are Satan's open demons, while the non-imperialist races are his hidden demons meant to cause rot in our society. They are also very racist, believe the races should not be mixed, believe in racial purity and segregation, and believe God will eventually kill all the races except the White Anglo-Saxon Protestants. Nasty bunch."

"A lot of this, my former Aunt Yvona pulled from old Nazi literature and the Protocols of the Elders of Zion," said Nova. "Some of it, I'm sure, Ekogaru gave her through a mind-link when he contacted her and Auntie Yvona's brain began to really turn into Swiss Cheese."

"Nice bunch," said Brew sarcastically. "Deke, would they really blow up a city like that?"

"The Rikashans would've," said Deke.

"How do you know…?"

"When I fought those guys in JSCC, they were taunting us from across the lines and telling us they wanted San Diego," said Deke.

_"Vicious _mothers," said Brew.

"You don't know half of it," began Wildstar, who was interrupted in his reverie when he noticed he was driving up to the gates of Boulder Municipal Airfield. He stopped and said, "They'll need ID, then we have to get in and get busy."

The other three nodded.

* * *

For Deke, the preparations for the combat operation seemed to take hours, even though it was accomplished in only about thirty minutes or so. 

Deke and Brew found themselves assigned to a Type 100 recon plane, the sort of plane, luckily, that he was familiar with. During the past year at the Space Fighters' Training School, he and Brew had learned to fly this plane and were checked out in it. They would learn to fly the Cosmo Tiger in their upcoming year, which would be their senior year. "Your mission," said Wildstar as Deke and Brew ran through the checklists, "will be to fly there first and probe their defenses. You have the speed and agility so that you can get there ahead of us. Domon and I will be flying there right behind you in the amphibious drop boats. We need a report on what they might have out there to stop us. Just try to get us advance recon info…"

"I see this plane has a target scope on it," said Wakefield as he strapped himself in at the pilot's place. Brew was behind him in the cockpit in the RSO's place.

"Yes, you have two missiles and some wing cannons," said Commodore Wildstar. "However, don't fire on them unless they engage you first. If this goes right, you and Marrable will find where they might have missile launchers; and then, we'll take them out right before we land and hit the deck. Then, when we all land at the rendezvous point, you will help us invade the facility. Got that?"

"Aye, sir," said Wakefield and Marrable.

"Good luck and good flying," snapped Wildstar. He saluted and the two cadets returned the salutes. They had liked flying a great deal at the Academy, and they had been in some exciting simulations, but this was the first time they were taking off in a plane and heading into a situation where they might really be shot at; so, as a result, there was an extra edge to their preparations.

A moment later, Deke was receiving takeoff directions from the tower as he taxied the Type 100 into takeoff position at the end of the runway. He smiled when he heard the directions in his headset "Bravo Mike Sierra Twelve, you are cleared for takeoff…"

"Cleared for takeoff, Bravo Mike Sierra Twelve," said Deke. He released his brakes and pulled back the throttle on the Type 100. The runway seemed very short and seemed to shoot by very fast. When the bird reached 140 knots, Deke rotated upwards, and the red and gold Type 100 took greedily to the sky. Within a few moments, he was at 1500 meters and gaining altitude as the Flatirons and then the Rockies marched on ahead of him in the distance in the west.

"Reading the terrain," said Brew, who was all business now. "We have to turn to 310 degrees for the best course to Longs Peak. I'm picking up some crosswinds in the distance, Deke. Watch your trim. You remember what happened that one day in training when you and I got wind shear in our planes; the day we were flying in close formation with Connors in that triad. That was the day that Staub washed out after he almost crashed."

"Roger that," said Deke. "By the way, I've just popped on those weapons…in case we need them…"

"We might; we might not," said Brew. "Remember, bro, we're here to look, not to fight."

"If they wanna fight, well, I'll give it to those guys. Goddamn, though, I wish it was Gamilons we were going up against."

Brew nodded sympathetically. "I lost my dad in the war, you lost…"

"Just about my whole damn family. Dad, mom, my sister….Dawn and Lynn were all I had left."

"I don't know if we'll ever be at war with those blue SOB's again, you know; they're supposed to be our allies now."

"Supposed to be is the operative word," snapped Deke. "Funny, even though I fought those Rikashan fanatics in Junior Space Cadet Corps in 2202, I don't hate them as much as I hate the Gamilons. The Rikashans just killed some of my JSCC buddies; the Gamilons did a lot worse."

"Things change, Deke…"

"Not for me. Hell, I'd just about as soon shake hands with a Gamilon…"

"As what?"

"As begin dating some Iscandarian space chick with all of her space juju powers. If they know so Goddamn much, why didn't they help us before my parents got it?"

"Don't have an answer, bro," sighed Brew.

"You know, this is damn weird," said Deke. "I was expecting summer training on the Rio Grande; we still are; but I was expecting routine stuff. I was never expecting to be on some kinda Star Force mission commanded by Wildstar himself. What do you think of him?"

"He's got that air about him, but he seems too damn young to be a flag officer, if you ask me. Hell, he ain't even started to go grey yet. And, hell, he's married to one heck of a fox."

"Yeah, weird how that Nova goes from a sundress to fatigues in five minutes flat. Dawn should meet her sometime. You know how Dawn says that it's not quite feminine to be in the military and how she'd never do it?"

"Missus Wildstar would prove her wrong in a minute," said Brew.

"Yeah…Dawn should have a talk with Mrs. Wildstar. Of course, that'd never happen, it's…Shit, picking up something," said Deke as he heard a singing noise in his headset as the Type 100 began to dive down towards a valley near Longs Peak. "Is that a radar, or…?"

"Roger that," snapped Brew. "Activating full ECM's, and preparing to drop window…looks like an SAM array by the signature."

The ominous singing noise only got louder. Deke quickly made a report. "Bravo Mike Sierra to Foxtrot Tango One. Over!"

"Foxtrot Tango One here, we're two klicks behind you," said Wildstar. "Over."

"Foxtrot Tango One, picking up VHF radar from dead ahead, three-ten point two four notch four. Suspect Mobile Surface to Air Array, Mark Twenty-Five."

"Picking up second SAM array from three-ten point one notch six," said Brew. "We've dropped window."

"Any fire yet?" asked Wildstar.

"Negative, sir," said Wakefield. Then, a minute later, he saw a bright flash of light from a bare patch near the snowy field. "Belay that, missile fire detected!"

"Take appropriate action," said Wildstar. "Any other radar points?"

"Aye, third mobile SAM array, three-eleven point two notch four; on the mountainside," said Deke as Brew sent him the data.

"Take the nearest one; we've got the others," said Wildstar. Deke then heard Wildstar ordering "Foxtrot Tango Two, take the one on the mountain; we've got the westernmost missile battery."

"Roger that," said Domon from his boat.

But, Deke was barely listening now; he was lining up the incoming missile in his target scope. "FIRE!" he barked. "Returning live fire!"

He shot at the missile, and took it out as it approached nine hundred meters; a bit close for comfort; he was at eleven hundred and had just locked his flaps at 08.

Then, Deke swung around, flicked a control on his control stick, and locked a missile on target over what looked like a three-ramp SAM battery using old Unification Wars ordinance. "Open fire!" he yelled.

He fired his missile, and watched with grim satisfaction as it slammed into the snow and exploded. He saw debris and bodies flying as he then reported, "Foxtrot Tango One, first SAM array taken out."

Then, a minute later, Deke and Brew felt their plane rocking. "Whatthe?" barked Deke.

"Damn, Sumuvabitch there's got a grenade launcher," snapped Brew. "We just took a hit!"

"SHIT!" yelled Deke as the engine temperature began to shoot up. "Well, I'm taking that guy out…"

Deke hit a fire extinguisher switch with one hand while he lined up on the running figure with the other hand. The enemy Josiahite wore black fatigues and something that looked like an old black Nazi coal-scuttle helmet, and he was making obscene gestures at Deke's plane as he ran.

"Take this, asshole," growled Deke. He began to strafe the Josiahite, and was pleasantly thrilled as he saw his fire slam home into the man, who was, simply, blown apart.

Alarms were going off in the Type 100 a moment later. "The foam didn't work," snapped Brew. Deke, you're gonna have to land now; we're on fire."

"All right," snapped Deke. He looked behind him and saw Wildstar's boat firing missiles off into the distance; then he saw its flaps going up and saw its landing jets beginning to snap on. "Hope our jets are still working, because I'll have to bring her in on those," said Deke. "Brew, we'll have to ditch this plane ASAP…"

"Gotcha, bro…" said Brew as more alarms went off. Brew looked back, and saw smoke trailing up from the Type 100's tail now.

"Changing flaps, activating jets," said Deke as the Type 100 slowed down abruptly from over two hundred knots to forty knots, and then thirty knots as it began to hover and lose altitude. "Hope you like snow because that's where I'm taking you."

"Sheeeiit, hope Missus Wildstar ditched her flipflops for boots," teased Brew as they landed. As soon as they thumped onto the ground, Deke and Brew were out with fire extinguishers; they last thing they wanted was an explosion to endanger the other boats.

They got the fire out with their foam just as Wildstar's boat landed; Domon's landed to its right.

"Good job!" snapped Wildstar as he ran out into the snow. "Thanks for the great spotting."

"Plane's toast, sir," said Wakefield. "I hadda soak the aft turbines."

"Doesn't matter," said Wildstar. "Hop aboard now; Nova tells me they're forming up ranks by the entrance; we're gonna have to fight our way inside."

"Gotcha, sir," said Brew. He boarded the boat, along with Deke. A moment later, Wildstar got in behind them, and shut the hatch just as enemy fire began to pepper the outside of the armored hatch.

Deke climbed up to the flight deck; he saw Nova working a combination of the ship's radar and a small portable sensor unit in her lap at the navigator's station; Hemsford was at the co-pilot's station of the amphibious boat. "Roger, ma'am, I got those guys locked on," he said as the boat turned a circle in the snow on its treads.

"Open fire!" said Wildstar as he took over the pilot's station again.

Hemsford fired; Deke nodded grimly as he saw more bodies blowing apart in the snow in front of him. But, here, he could clearly see their blood as they were blown to bits.

Ain't so nice and clean now, he thought. Not that that bothers me…

"Derek, they're pulling an XT-Twenty out of the mountain!" cried Nova.

"And that is?" asked Wakefield.

"Old Unification Wars Armored Personnel carrier," snapped Hemsford as he looked back at Deke. "These suckers ain't screwin' around!"

"Take them out before they can turn that gun on us," said Wildstar.

"Locked on target."

"Fire at will," snapped Wildstar.

Hemsford nodded and fired. A missile sprayed from under the landing boat's wing and blasted right into the enemy APC. The explosion was spectacular.

"Not bad," said Hemsford. "Now we know where the entrance is; that spot of fire ahead of us…"

"Looks like there's a path up to it," said Wildstar. "Foxtrot Tango Two, entrance spotted," said Wildstar over his mike. "Follow us; we're taking these right into the mountain."

"Roger," said Domon's voice from his boat.

"What are Brew and I doing?" asked Deke.

"We need squad leaders to help protect the medic squad and Squad Six," said Hemsford.

"How long before I set up an aid station?" asked Nova.

"As soon as we button up," said Derek. "Give your sensor unit to Mister Glitchman."

"Sure Homer can handle this?" asked Nova.

"Homer can't act as a combat pharmacist's mate; you can," snapped Derek.

"Tannen says we've got one wounded guy on this boat now," said Hemsford as he listened to his walkie-talkie. "Ma'am, wanna check him out?"

"What kind of injury?" said Nova as she abandoned her sensor post and got up, pushing her way past Wakefield and Marrable as she climbed down the short angled ladder out of the flight deck.

"Says kid got knocked around against the side of the boat when we skidded in the snow. Knocked a tooth out."

"We don't have time for this now," sighed Nova. "These guys should be more experienced than that in a boat. Okay, I'll check him out. Where is he, Wakefield?"

"Over there by the port bulkhead, ma'am," said Deke.

Marrable watched her as he went past. "Definitely got boots."

"We knew there was snow here, stupid," said Deke as he began to check out DJ with a loud click. "Sir, where's the aid station gonna be?"

"Nova'll set it up inside the carrier," said Wildstar. "Four medics are coming out with us to rescue any of our wounded men."

"Are we taking prisoners, sir?" said Wakefield.

Wildstar just said, "Only if they clearly and actually surrender. Otherwise…"

"Thought so, sir," said Deke with a smile.

* * *

Before long, both boats had maneuvered past the burning wreckage of the enemy personnel carrier and they were in the mountain base's outer areas. Both boats came to a stop, and as the hatches hit the ground, Hemsford and Domon were ordering their men out. While Nova handed her sensor pack over to Homer, Wildstar briefed Wakefield. 

"This should be easy," he said. "You and those other four will protect Nova and these medics and Fifth Series Medical Robots and the aid station they're setting up. By no means are you to let any of the enemy survive this. We have our orders that they are not to communicate with the outside world. That's why General Singleton wants this whole bunch dead or taken prisoner after we secure those missiles…."

A moment later, there was shouting and yelling up ahead. Then, there came bursts of AK-01 fire, and Unification Wars small arms fire. Then, there was an explosion, during which Derek quickly pushed Nova onto the ramp of the landing boat, shielding her from the blast with his body.

"Derek, are you okay?" she asked as he struggled up.

"Fine," said Wildstar.

"Sir, there were five of them waiting for us," said Domon as he ran up. "We got four of them…"

"Look out!" yelled Deke as he saw a movement in the corner of his eye. Wildstar, Nova, and Brew looked; they saw a fifth man creeping towards them trailing blood; he was a grim-looking white man with blonde hair under what was clearly an old German-Wehrmacht-patterned black coal scuttle helmet over black fatigues.

Deke and Commodore Wildstar fired at the man at once. When he was hit, he screamed, and yelled, "God will damn you, you stinking, rotten heretics! The spirit of Yvona is with…"

"Don't mention that name around me," snapped Nova angrily as she swiveled and turned her rifle on him.

"I'm wounded! I surrender!" he yelled as he began to reach for something at his belt.

Nova thought, He's surely up to no good. Thus, she fired before he could finish touching it. The Josiahite crumpled as blood spewed from his neck.

"Good job," said Derek a moment later as he examined the object. "He had a grenade, Nova."

"Thought so, "she said quietly. "What's in his pockets?"

"Tracts," he said as he threw a bundle of papers towards his wife.

Nova sighed. "Who does he think he's going to proselytize down here? All right; Private, get him out of sight," said Nova. "Hide him behind the boat."

"Yes, ma'am."

"We don't have much time," said Wildstar. "Hemsford, move out. Everyone, we should be back in a while…"

"Be careful," said Nova.

"We will be," said Homer. "C'mon, Domon…."

Domon nodded. A moment later, after Brew nodded a goodbye to Wakefield, Nova, Wakefield, and the others were left alone.

* * *

Wakefield stood fingering DJ as the medics worked prepping equipment behind him. He felt a tap on his shoulder a moment later. 

"Hello, ma'am," he said as Nova came up. She had a bundle of combat dressings in one hand, and one of the enemy tracts in the other.

"If you wonder what I'm doing, I'm trying to find out how they think…"

Deke looked at the crudely printed comic-book like tract. "THE DEATH COOKIE?"

Nova nodded. "Taking Communion of any kind is a sin according to these weirdoes. It looks like they took an old anti-Catholic tract and decided to rewrite it to condemn most Christians who take Communion in any way, shape, or form…"

"Looks hateful," said Wakefield. "Those particular tracts always creeped me out…"

"The Josiahites have made them worse," said Nova. "They have an address here; for some office in San Diego, of all places."

"You mean they openly operate there?"

"No, it's for a church," said Nova. "I think it must be one of their fronts. This looks smeary, so they must change addresses a lot. And if you think this is bad, you should see the anti-Semitic tracts they write. Someone gave me one in an airport once…"

Then, Nova heard a noise.

"Huh?" said Deke.

"Get down…I heard something…"

A moment later, bullets began to pepper the area, as ten screaming Josiahites emerged. One of them said, "Attention, you scum! I am named Hezekiah! You are outnumbered! You will surrender AT ONCE!"

_Great,_ thought Deke_. Just like that time in the desert…here we go again…._

_

* * *

_**TO BE CONTINUED...**


	4. Chapter 4

**ALTERNATE TALES OF THE STAR FORCE**

**STAR BLAZERS****---****TREACHERY **

**Being the second part of _THE NEW COMET_--- BY: Frederick P. Kopetz**

* * *

This Act is being completed with the Cooperation and Assistance of Derek A.C. Wakefield (as usual)---_Freddo_

* * *

**ACT FOUR: CAUGHT IN A TRAP…**

* * *

**I. THE GAMILONS UNDER ATTACK…**

**Near Orbit**

**Planet Ashura**

**Earth Date: Friday, July 12, 2205**

**1505 Hours: Earth Time**

* * *

"Fifth attack wave incoming," said a radar officer aboard the _Gamilstadt_. "It's another wave of Scorpions, Leader Desslok." 

"Talan, order the fleet to launch another wave of fighter planes."

"Yessir," said Talan.

"How is the battle near the planet?" asked Desslok.

"Our destroyers are continuing to hold their shield over the Capital," said Talan. "We have landed troops and those troops are now working with the Ashurans to fend off the enemy. We have crushed the Ashurans' initial resistance!"

"Yes," said Desslok. "At least they are since our forces killed that treasonous so-called President of theirs in that bombing raid we started. After I showed my power, they were happy to surrender and accept my rule through our Governor. I think they'll make good slaves now with half their Capital bombed out, hmm? Such is the price they must pay for cooperating with our _enemies_…when I was ready to offer them a _peaceful_ transition back into the Empire."

"Still, "said Talan. "There have been three enemy landings near the Capital, sir. We…"

Desslok and his officers were illuminated fiercely in a glare of light as a Scorpion flew in and attacked his flagship.

"Activate all anti-aircraft!" snapped Desslok. "Get that ship!"

"Of course, sir," said Talan.

Astrena came onto the bridge. "Desslok. Where's the enemy fleet?"

"Twelve megameters in front of us," said Desslok. "We've lost a third of the fleet. We've been fighting them off and pressing the attack with fighters and bombers from our carriers. I've also had our ship spread two waves of Desslok mines."

"Fighters ready," said another officer.

Desslok smiled and grabbed his handgrip. "Activate SMITE!"

The SMITE generators at the bow of the _Gamilstadt_ went off, and the Gamilon fighter planes faded out of existence, appearing right in front of the Cometines to defend the Gamilon Fleet. Then, when Desslok saw that his maneuver had been successful, he asked, "Astrena, what do you need?"

"Can we distract them for a few minutes with a message, Desslok? This battle has gone on long enough. I think I'd like to try my own method to deal with those madmen and bring a quick end to this before we lose other forces."

"I almost have them in my grasp now, Astrena."

"Do you?"

"You can be assured of that," said Desslok as he walked over to the firing pedestal at the central portion of his bridge. He looked at a readout and nodded. "Talan, bring up the Desslok gun. Astrena is right. This battle _has_ gone on long enough."

"Yessir," said Talan. "**_Bring up the Desslok gun!"_**

The huge brazen firing pedestal appeared a moment later. Desslok's engineers changed some controls, and, after Talan issued some orders to the Fleet, the Fleet parted to give Desslok a clear firing path. "Desslok cannon," said an officer as the gun began to power up. "Energy level, sixty-five percent."

Desslok smiled. "Three minutes to firing. Remove all safety interlocks."

"Safety interlocks removed, sir!" barked a voice on the intercom from somewhere in the bowels of the _Gamilstadt_.

"At last," said Desslok with a snarl as he anticipated the kill. "These interlopers shall finally be dealt with in the manner in

which they deserve…"

Not far away, Astrena closed her eyes as she thought, _Desslok, I understand your reliance upon your fleet, but why do I have the feeling that, this time, what you are planning will not work?_

* * *

On what was now his flagship, the _Krineda_, General Turpitz said, "Schaza's death is a small loss. I will show Gernitz and Invidia what we have been waiting for at last. Is the Magna-Flame Gun ready?" 

"Magna-Flame gun powered up and ready for firing," said one of Turpitz's officers.

"Firing sequence ready," said another officer.

"Target information entered."

"Fire," said Turpitz with a grin. "Target; right in the middle of their fleet!"

A moment later, as Turpitz laughed, the _Krineda's_ Magna-Flame Gun went off, blasting a huge surge of energy right into the midst of the Gamilon fleet.

"Impact point tracked; it's taken out two of their carriers!" snapped one of Turpitz's officers.

"_Hahahahahahaha_, GREAT!" said Turpitz. "I recall that time that their Leader Desslok mocked me and my cousin General Bleek before we began our attack on Earth! I'll bet that this fool who has such a great opinion of himself isn't laughing _now!_"

* * *

"We've been thrown off course! We need to begin evasive maneuvers!" said one officer on the _Gamilstadt_ as Desslok powered down his firing sequence. 

"Begin evasive maneuvers!" snapped Desslok.

"Sir, we've lost the carriers _Halgens_ and _Prinz Hever_," said another officer. "Two destroyers are also reporting they are badly damaged. Message coming in from the enemy fleet. Leader Desslok, shall I shift to visual?"

Desslok nodded while gritting his teeth in rage. "_Talan!_Recalibrate firing path! I'm powering the cannon up again while he prattles with us!"

"Understood, sir!" said Talan.

"Resuming charging sequence," said the engineering officer while Desslok got a new bead on the enemy fleet.

"Enemy commander on visual!" said the communications officer.

Desslok looked up and recognized him at once. "General Turpitz. I thought you were dead."

"I thought you were dead, too, Desslok. Unfortunately, that is not the case…_yet_."

Desslok chuckled. "While you mock me, my old friend, you are looking your own doom right in the face."

"Ah, yes, your mighty Desslok cannon," said Turpitz with a mocking smile. "I'm sure you remember the Magna-Flame Gun?"

"That failure?" said Desslok. "The failure you could never get to work right? Commodore Derek Wildstar of Earth told me you had a little _trouble_ with it in Saturn's ice ring a few years ago."

"I see you are not impressed?" said Turpitz.

"Why _should_ I be?" said Desslok as he prepared to fire his Desslok cannon. Behind him, Astrena was trying to get his attention.

"Well, I have it targeted right on your flagship, Desslok. Surrender at once, or I'll have to tell Princess Invidia I was forced to kill you."

"_Invidia_ is behind this?"

"Yes. She has taken Prince Zordar's place as leader of our House!"

"I _pity_ your men, Turpitz." said Desslok in a dry tone of voice. "Correction. I pity you. Desslok cannon…"

Turpitz nodded.

At once, a blast of fire materialized in front of the _Gamilstadt_. Desslok's officers and men stood aghast as the pink, roaring blast of energy stood ready to annihilate them in one shot.

But, Astrena stood up, extended her hands, and screamed in rage.

A field of blue energy materialized out of nowhere around Desslok's flagship, absorbing the cataract of energy from the Magna-Flame gun. Then, a moment later, it blasted back out into space and disappeared….

And then, it reappeared in the middle of Turpitz's fleet!

* * *

"What did you just do?" snapped Desslok. "That looked familiar!" 

"I saved our lives with my power," snapped back Astrena.

"You humiliated me," said Desslok.

"Why?"

"The Star Force once used the same tactic against me some years ago when I thought I had them destroyed. And you saved my life with the same tactic? How amusing! _Hahahahahahaha!_" At that, Desslok began to laugh in a high, keening fashion like a madman.

Astrena just glared at him. "This is no joke. Now's your chance, Desslok! Get them, and finish them off with that cannon!"

Desslok ran over to the firing grip and snapped, "Very well, Astrena! FIRE!"

The Desslok cannon finally went off a moment later, blasting a corridor right into the Cometine Fleet. Several of Turpitz's carriers and missile ships were blown apart, along with his commanders. With this on the heels of the explosion that had just destroyed so many of their battleships, Turpitz knew it was time to give up.

"I don't care what Invidia says," he snapped. "Prepare for warp. We have to regroup with Gernitz's fleet! Let the Gamilons have this planet…for now…"

"Sir, Invidia will not be happy," said one of Turpitz's officers.

"I know that. But if we don't cut our losses now, we won't be around to consider the question much longer!"

The officer began to make preparations for warp.

* * *

"Sir, the enemy fleet is gone," said Talan as several men aboard the _Gamilstadt_ cheered. "They've just warped out!" 

"We've won!" said one of Desslok's officers.

A moment later, another one appeared with a glass for Desslok, who had just sat down at his command seat at the aft portion of the bridge. "Leader Desslok, the victory toast."

Desslok took the goblet with a sarcastic grin from one of his guardswomen. He raised it once, drank a single sip, and then cast it to the deck in an explosion of rage.

"Sir?" asked the shocked officer.

"Why drink now, with so many of my men _dead_?" snapped Desslok. "If you call this a victory, then every defeat must be a glorious victory for the Empire! Excuse me while I leave," he hissed as he stood up.

"Sir…"

Desslok turned to Talan. "Talan, I leave you in command of the Fleet. Make certain that any of the surviving members of the Ashuran Government are executed by nightfall. Astrena; I am retiring to our suite. You can meet me there, if you wish!"

"For a conversation?" she asked.

"No. For an _explanation_," snapped Desslok. He turned away from her with a sharp snap of his cloak and left.

Astrena balled up her fists as Desslok left. _Yes,_ she thought. _For an explanation of why you are acting like this!_

* * *

**II. NOT THE BEST OF SITUATIONS…**

**Earth**

**Longs Peak****, Colorado**

**The Underground Base**

**Friday, July 12, 2205**

**2038 Hours: Earth Time**

* * *

Wildstar, Domon, and Homer had led their squads right up to one of the mobile nuclear missile launchers that the cultists were working on taking out. 

"Well, they're busy," said Domon. "I don't think they see us."

"_Hemsford_," whispered Wildstar over his helmet radio.

"Gotcha," said Hemsford. "We just took out a group around missile number two…we…"

"We need backup," said Wildstar. "They've got twenty men surrounding this one; it looks like they're trying to start the tractor."

"Where are you?" asked Hemsford.

"R-22 by C-12 on your coordinate chart," whispered Homer as he looked at his portable scanner.

"Be right there," said Hemsford.

Wildstar said, "Domon, surround them. Sergeant?"

"Yessir?" said the old gunny sergeant who was near Wildstar.

"Cover that side. I'll go over there with my men. We'll surround them in a ring. If they start to move that thing, we have to attack."

"Gotcha," said the gunny sergeant.

* * *

"Where's that surrender?" demanded Hezekiah as he stared at Nova, Wakefield, and their group. 

"It's not going to come," said Nova. "We're an aid station; not…"

Nova looked as two medics came up, helping wounded men from Hemsford's platoon up a passage. "Let those men be," said Nova. "The laws of war say that you can't attack medics or wounded people. Don't you even respect _that_?"

Hezekiah nodded, and four of his men shot down the medics and wounded men in cold blood as Nova looked on with horror in her eyes. She snarled and swung her rifle at Hezekiah.

"Laws of war do not apply to heretics like you," snapped Hezekiah. "Drop that weapon, woman!"

"Make me! I have a right to protect my medics!" said Nova as she undid the safety on her weapon after glancing at some of her medics, thinking, _They'll live, but only if I have a chance to treat them…I have to stop these men!._ Beside her, Deke was ready to back her up.

Hezekiah said, "You might like to see _this_ before you die."

The head Josiahite raised his hand, and part of the deck opened up. A huge lift came up from the floor.

It held a tractor, and a trailer. On the trailer was the elevator and equipment holding the third nuclear missile.

"We're getting this right out through that gate," said Hezekiah. "Try to stop us, and you die."

"We're not afraid of dying," snapped Deke. Nova nodded and signaled to the medics. They aimed their weapons at the group of twenty terrorists as the engine started on the missile tractor.

"KILL THEM!" yelled Hezekiah.

A moment later, a combination of laser and projectile fire blasted around Nova, Deke, and the others. Deke pulled Nova behind a beam for cover, and, a moment later, the two of them had a bead on Hezekiah.

They returned fire. Hezekiah fell with a smile on his face. Two of Nova's medics fell, followed by four of the terrorists. The deadly exchange of fire continued, as the crawler began to move towards the hatch.

Nova was calling to Derek for reinforcements. He said, "We'll do what we can; they're trying to move a second missile out."

"But they've almost got that first missile out there!" cried Nova.

"So?" said Deke. "We've just gotta take that thing's tractor," he said. "Sir, get us help as soon as you can. In the meantime, I think we've got things…under control here. Nova, see that tractor?"

"You're going to hit them with a grenade?"

Deke nodded. "If they can't move that thing…"

"Right! They can't get it out there. What's wrong with me?" said Nova as she caught on. She grabbed a grenade from off her belt and pulled the pin. Deke followed suit. "GO!" yelled Deke.

Nova and Deke threw grenades at the truck cab. They exploded a moment later, blowing four of the cultists to bits and stopping the trailer in its tracks as the tractor burned.

"Scratch one tractor," said Nova over her headset as more enemy fire skipped in. "Derek, how are you doing down there?"

"Not good," said Wildstar. "There's more of them, and they've got us…pinned down at the moment…"

"I under…" Then, Nova screamed as a hand went around her neck.

"NOVA!" yelled Derek in her intercom. "NOVA!"

The hand turned into an arm. Deke grabbed DJ and swiveled, but the strong Josiahite said, "You move, and I'll finish her off!"

Nova looked down and found that the terrorist had a knife. And it was right in the hollow of her neck.

* * *

In the meantime, Wildstar was fighting for his life as bullets and laser bolts skipped all around him. He and Hemsford had taken cover behind a beam as the enemy fired at them, again and again. The two men played sniper, taking out men moment by moment. 

"What's wrong, sir?" asked Hemsford as he saw Wildstar deep in thought.

"Nova. She was in battle and she just went silent all of a sudden. I hope she's not…"

"It's my fault," said Hemsford. "I didn't think they'd have quite so many men. Where are they getting them all _from_?"

"I'd love to know," said Derek as a laser bolt nearly hit him and he returned fire. "I just hope…Nova's okay…I…"

"I think she can take care of herself, sir."

"I hope so. I'm just…."

"I know…"

"You people are going to stop shooting," snapped the terrorist as he forced Nova in front of the group at knifepoint.

"You know, you people are attacking wounded," snapped Deke. "What kind of people are you?"

"Fighters for the truth," snapped the Josiahite. "I am named Ashkeraz. Woman, drop your weapon…"

"Make me," snapped Nova.

He pressed the point of the knife against Nova's neck. "Continue this and I'll cut your carotid artery, bitch. Drop your weapon, and then begin unbuttoning your shirt."

"Why?" said Nova as she dropped her Astro-Automatic while slowly moving a foot up over his instep.

"You're gonna help me strip you. Of everything. Then, you're going on a cross outside after we beat you a bit; maybe have some fun."

Deke snarled and reached for DJ, which he had dropped in the fighting. However, Nova looked at him and shook her head.

"If you take me, will you leave these others alone, Ashkeraz?" said Nova as she undid one button on her BDU top. She was waiting for him to relax the knife just a little, then…

"I'll have fun with you. You really a slut, aren't you?"

Nova gave him a winning smile as she undid a second button. "Maybe I am…"

At that, the knife relaxed.

Nova immediately slammed her foot into Ashkeraz's instep, breaking several bones. As the man screamed, Nova turned, grabbed his knife hand, snapped his wrist with a quick movement as he stabbed at her, and, a moment later, she had the knife herself. Nova then pivoted, shoved the knife into his neck, and kicked him away and took his weapon as he fell.

Then, she nodded to Deke, who grabbed DJ. Both of them then opened up on the remaining enemy troops and made them either fall or scatter. Then, a moment later, Domon and a squad of five appeared. Nova motioned them over with a hand signal, and Domon and his group helped Wildstar and Wakefield finish off the rest of this bunch.

"Not bad," said Deke as he caught his breath.

"Agreed," said Nova as she buttoned up her BDU blouse. Then, she said, "Derek?"

"Nova? You're all right? Thank God!"

"I'm fine. We got this first group. How are you doing?"

"We could use some help here!"

"Domon, go and assist him. Where are you, Derek?"

"Two levels down, by the lift."

"Domon, two levels down, by the lift. Leave me any of your wounded."

"Yes, ma'am," said Domon. "Dallas, stay here at the aid station. The rest of you, move it!"

Domon and his men left.

Brew met up with Wildstar under fire a moment later. "Not good, is it?"

"No, it's not. How did you do?"

"Stopped a bunch trying to get more stuff out. I take it this is the last group?"

"Sure is," said Homer as he fired at the enemy with his Astro-Automatic.

"I've got concussion and flash grenades, sir," said Brew.

"Yeah…I was noticing none of these guys have eye protection," said Wildstar as he closed his helmet. He signaled to his men to shut their blue helmet visors. "Hit them with a flash grenade, followed by a concussion round. When they're disoriented, we'll finish them off."

Marrable nodded. He prepared a flash grenade and threw it. The dimly lit cavern suddenly lit up like daytime. Then, a moment later, Marrable and Homer threw concussion charges. A loud _bang_ filled the chamber; as it faded, Wildstar, Hemsford, Homer and their men, assisted by Domon (who had just arrived) played sniper and killed all of the Josiahites as they surrounded their missile launcher.

Then, there was only silence. Wildstar said on his intercom, "Any wounded?"

Three men got up and raised their hands. Wildstar said, "Stay there if you can't move; we'll have medics get you soon. Domon?"

"Sir, the other Marine Sergeant said he got the second main group and stopped one of the launchers. We got one here, and Nova and her group stopped the third."

Homer looked at his sensor unit and said, "Wildstar, there's only three enemy troops left in the caverns. They're down one level."

"Hemsford, you go and kill them or capture them," said Wildstar.

"Yessir. Move it!" snapped Hemsford to his men.

Then, Derek said, "Nova, can you send us medics?"

"How are you, sir?" she asked.

"Battle's over down here, only three wounded. How many dead enemy troops, Homer?"

"Sixteen," he replied.

"Well, this is going to take a while to clean up," said Wildstar.

"Let me take care of our wounded first, Derek," said Nova from her end.

"Roger that."

* * *

**III. AFTERMATH…**

**Earth**

**Longs Peak****, Colorado**

**The Underground Base**

**Friday, July 12, 2205**

**2205 Hours: Earth Time**

A while later, after their wounded had been taken care of and evacuated out with Nova and the medics and the medical robots, Wildstar, Domon, Hemsford, and Wakefield stood looking at the enemy dead as they took a count while other Marines arrived to secure the base and its weapons.

"I count thirty-six dead here," said Hemsford as he looked at the bodies.

"We counted six more dead around those missile batteries; and we took three of them alive," said Domon. "That's forty-five of them. How many casualties on our end, Wildstar?"

"We were lucky. We have four dead, and Nova took out seven wounded whom she said should get better soon. And we stopped them from getting those out and using them," he said as he pointed at the nuclear missiles, which were now all lined up on their crawlers out in the snow as other Marines worked to disarm and dismantle their warheads under artificial light from crawler vehicles."

"Sir," said a Marine Lieutenant as he came up and saluted. "The facility is now secured with three more platoons. Great job, sir."

"Thanks," said Wildstar. "Lieutenant Perry, this is now your responsibility. I just reported to the Megalopolis that our job is finished."

"Great, sir," said Lt. Jeff Perry. "And where are you going?"

"To meet my wife at the hospital in Denver," said Wildstar. "Homer, Domon, Hemsford, Wakefield, Marrable, come with me in that first boat. I think we need some payoff."

"You mean we're getting beer?" said Brew excitedly.

"Yeah," said Wildstar. "My treat."

Later on, they all regrouped at a bar in Boulder. Wildstar, Nova, Deke and Brew had changed back into civvies at the hotel, and Brew was now laughing and looking at women in a bar called _The Inkwell_ not far from the University of Colorado at Boulder campus. Nova sort of felt like she had gone back into the past and taken Derek with her as she heard the atmosphere in the college-town bar. Granted, it was summer session, and not as busy as usual, but there were still a few professors, summer-session students, and even ROTC cadets from the U. of Colorado unit who had gathered here before leaving for summer training.

Deke noticed that Brew was in "kick back and relax" mode; he had a big mug of beer, and he was smoking a cigarette; it was one of those long Reom 120s that Deke knew he liked.

"Shit," said Brew. "This ain't a bad way to get thanked."

"Explain," said Deke, who was trying to concentrate on something over the loud music. The bar had a live band (it was, after all a Friday night that had bled into the wee hours of Saturday morning) and they were playing "_Wipeout_" quite loudly. Normally, Deke didn't mind surf music, but there was a girl laughing with some guy across the bar who had brown hair—with frosted blonde bangs. He knew it wasn't Dawn, since the set of her nose was different, but the way she was making time with a big college jock in a muscle shirt didn't help Wakefield's mood, and neither did seeing Commodore Wildstar up on the dance floor every so often with Nova as they tried new moves, looking a bit like young grad students in Derek's golf shirt and jeans and Nova's fresh white terrycloth dress and sandals. They were laughing their heads off when they occasionally bumped into each other trying to dance.

"Well, Wildstar's buying tonight…"

"When he's not up dancing with Nova, playing the pinball machine with Nova, and being dragged around by Nova as they meet old friends of hers."

"Sheeeit, Deke. What's your problem?"

"Look across the bar. Spitting image of Dawn," said Deke as he kicked down more of his beer. "I know it's not her, but…"

"You don't need the reminder."

"Damn straight," said Deke.

Then, Domon came over; he had some brunette in a halter top, shorts, and sneakers by the hand, and she was laughing. The band had switched to a contemporary hit called "_Iscandar_" and it didn't help Deke's mood, not one bit.

"Hey, I want you guys to meet my new friend, Cassie," said Domon. It sounded like Domon had just had a pretty good amount of beer. "Cassie, this is Marrable, and this guy is Wakefield."

"Hi," said Deke.

"Hey, hon." said Brew.

"Excuse me, she's taken," laughed Domon, who gave Brew a friendly shove. Brew, Domon, and Cassie laughed at this while Deke remained silent.

"I was just wondering," said Cassie. "Domon says he's with the First Star Force. Is that true?"

"Go over there and ask Commodore Wildstar," said Deke.

"I believe you," laughed Cassie. "Is it true you two guys are Midshipmen at the Academy?"

"We sure are," said Brew.

"Well, my friends Vicki and Anja," she said, pointing over to a pretty blond girl and a very nice-looking fine-boned African-American girl (who were also dressed in revealing summer outfits) "You know, they just kinda broke up with their boyfriends this weekend, and they were wondering if maybe you'd like to dance…"

"I'll dance," said Brew, looking over at Anja as she came over and waved at him. She had a nice, high Afro hairdo, and he certainly did think she was cute (her very short shorts probably helped there; Deke knew that Brew was a 'butt man') "C'mon, Miss Anja, let's do the next song."

"Right," said Anja. She and Brew left while Vicki came over to talk to Deke.

The main thing that turned off Deke about Vicki was that she was blonde. She had a pretty attractive face, and even had a shag hairstyle kind of like Nova's, with cute blue eyes. She had a good, if average build, that was displayed in a tube top, miniskirt, and platform sandals. "Well," said Vicki. "Ryusuke over there told me you're a Midshipman. That true?"

"Yeah, I am," said Wakefield, who decided to just make conversation.

"What speciality?"

"Flight."

"Oh, you're gonna drive a fighter plane, I bet, huh? I'm in training as a registered nurse. I think I'm going to take a commission with the World Health Organization when I graduate next year. Where are you from?"

"San Diego," said Deke as he looked down at his boots. He was getting nervous, so he took his drumsticks out of his belt and began to beat a tattoo against an empty bar stool.

"Do you drum?" asked Vicki.

"Yeah, kind of," replied Deke. He stopped a minute later when Nova came back to the bar with Derek in tow.

"Oh, my God," said Vicki. "You're…?"

"Nova Wildstar," replied Nova as she sat down at the bar stool beside Derek. "Deke, are we intruding? There's booths over there."

"Uh, no, ma'am, it's okay," said Wakefield as Nova took another sip of her beer. Wakefield noticed she liked lager with a lime wedge squeezed into it. Vicki was looking at the beer, so Nova said, "Funny habit. Picked it up in London in early 2201."

"What were you doing in London?" asked Vicki.

"She was doing a goodwill tour with some members of the Star Force after we got back from Iscandar."

"Oh, my God! Derek Wildstar!" said Vicki. "Sir, can I have your autograph?"

"Nova..?" said Derek.

"Here's a pen," said Nova after she hunted in her purse. "Oh, Derek, I called Mom before. She'd like us to meet with her and Dad for church tomorrow, and wants us to spend at least Sunday night there before we leave."

"Buried the hatchet, huh?" said Wildstar.

"Yup," said Nova. "Look, Homer's dancing with some girl over there. I'm gonna tell Wendy if he leaves here with that girl."

"Yeah, he can't be two-timing," said Wildstar.

"That's like, lou-sy," laughed Vicki, who was starting to grate on Deke's nerves. "Hey, Midshipman," said Vicki as the band began to play "_Love Potion Number Nine_"

"Name's Deke."

"Okay, Deeekkeeee….you wanna leave with me? I mean…"

Nova just grinned a little and turned away to Derek whistling. Derek said, "Hey, Nova, let's go play pinball again, all right?"

"Okay, sure," said Nova as she winked at Deke and Vicki. "See you later… you two," laughed Nova as she took Wildstar's hand.

Deke just sat in silence. Vicki said, "What's wrong?"

"Nothing."

"Are you all right?"

"Little too much brew," said Wakefield.

"Well, come on," said Vicki as she tried to take him by the hand. "I meant that, Dekeee. I'd like you to see my apartment…"

"No, thanks," said Wakefield quietly.

"No?"

"I…I just suffered a loss recently," said Wakefield. "I…I'm not really ready to get serious with anyone yet. Or semi-serious."

"It's not like I asked you to marry me or anything," teased Vicki. "I hear you Midshipmen like to have fun."

"I'm not that type," said Wakefield. "No…I'm straight; I just don't treat women like that."

Vicki sighed. "You're missing out on a great time. And you _are_ cute."

"Sorry, no thanks.."

"Okay," said Vicki. "Well, maybe we'll meet again some time," she said. "Take care."

She blew Deke a kiss, finished her beer, and then flounced off. There was applause, and the band began to play a bluesy version of "_Scarlet Scarf_" as the couples on the dance floor began to slow-dance. Deke caught glimpses of Domon dancing close with his date, and then he saw Nova and Derek dancing as if they were at some high school prom or something. It looked cute, but it didn't help Deke's mood at the moment.

Brew came back a moment later. Alone. And with a hand mark showing on his face.

"Damn broad," he said angrily. "I just wanted to…you know…see her place…and she slapped me. Well, bye-bye Anja. Hello lonely weekend."

"Go talk to Vicki over there," said Deke sarcastically. "She just tried to drag me to her _place_."

"Hell, I'm not into them kind of blondes," said Brew. "But she is cute. Dressed down just right for a hot night. C'mon, man. Dawn would forgive ya."

"I don't go that way!" snapped Deke. "Especially not with…with…her type. You know…_floozies_," said Deke in a low voice.

"I just struck out," said Brew. "You threw one away, man."

"No, Brew. I struck out, too. I'm not that type, and that's not the kind of relationship I want."

"Well, what do ya want?" said Marrable.

"You know damn well what I want. I want my dearest friend back," said Wakefield. "I want Dawn."

* * *

The next morning, after church, Wildstar and Nova met up with Domon, Homer, Hemsford, and some of the Marines at a baseball diamond on the University of Colorado at Boulder campus. Nova got them onto the diamond by flashing her alumni association card. They set up something that wasn't quite a pickup game, but wasn't quite just shagging at flies, either. 

Domon was having fun pitching while a Marine caught behind home plate. At the moment, Nova was up taking batting practice in shorts, a t-shirt, and sneakers.

"I wonder where Deke and Brew went, Derek?" said Nova. "When I last saw them at the bar last night, I told them to meet us here. "You know we all have to split up tomorrow."

"I have no idea what happened to them," said Wildstar. He stood watching as Nova swung at a fastball and hit a good fly ball out to left field. Off in the distance, Domon's new girlfriend Cassie was running on the grass in bare feet to catch it. "Hey, that was a good one."

"Wanna take another swing?" yelled Domon from the mound.

"Yeah," said Nova. "Derek, watch me hit the fence with this one."

"You look kinda agitated."

Nova swung and hit again, sending the ball into right field with a loud _crack_ of the bat.

"Not bad," said Derek. "I'm definitely picking you for our team."

"Thanks."

"What's on your mind?"

"Mad," said Nova as the Marine who caught the ball threw back to Domon.

"Over what?"

"The Josiahites. And Yvona. Even though she's dead, all she's causing is heartache. I hope she's happy down there in Hell, like Father Likanski said. He was sure preaching a fire and brimstone one this morning, wasn't he?"

"Lazarus and the Rich Man," said Wildstar, referring to the parable from one of the Gospels that the pastor who had married them had been preaching on. "Right now, I kinda feel like Lazarus."

"The one in Paradise?" teased Nova.

"No, the other guy that Christ raised from the dead, Nova. I know what his head must've felt like after he got raised."

Nova sighed. "I told you that you should've stopped at four beers, Derek!. But you never listen to me, do you?"

"Guess not," said Wildstar. "You gonna stand up there batting all day?"

"Your turn," said Nova as she handed Derek the Louisville Slugger. "I wish Deke and Brew would get here. It'd be nice to have them on our side."

"Yeah…"

* * *

Marrable finally found Wakefield in a diner not far from the Boulderado Hotel. It was fairly quiet; the usual morning breakfast crowd had just left. It left time and space for Deke to sit morosely looking at a cup of coffee. 

"What's up?" said Brew.

"I woke up this morning and found an Internet café' at that place in the hotel. You know, usual stuff. I tried sending an e-mail."

"Where?"

"Dawn's last known address."

"Where'd it go?"

"It bounced. She's not at that particular address any more at Pan-Am."

"How'd you know she was there?"

"Lynn. She keeps me posted on Dawn's address. Not that Dawn's been answering any of my e-mails, anyhow. Well, I wrote Lynn and asked for her new address and let her know what happened. I guess her response will get forwarded through channels to the _Rio Grande_; if they even let us check e-mail there on the cruise, that is."

"It's a nice day, Deke. Don't just sit there and mope. Wildstar said last night that he was getting together a ball game on a diamond on the college campus after church. C'mon…"

"I don't like baseball, and they'd just put me in the deep outfield someplace. Which is where I feel like I belong right now. The outfield. Deke strikes out again. Whhhoooo…eee…"

"That's no excuse, man."

"All right. There's gonna be at least three couples there getting all giggly and silly with each other on a hot summer day, and I don't need to be reminded that I'm all bloody alone."

"You're not alone."

"Whatcha mean?"

"You wanna mope, I'll mope with ya, man. I struck out last night, too."

"Thanks."

* * *

**IV. THE GAMILONS REGROUP**

**In Orbit Around Gamilon**

**Earth Date: Sunday, July 14, 2205**

**1005 Hours: Earth Time**

* * *

Desslok sat morosely eating his breakfast in the suite of his flagship with Astrena and Dellar. He read a report as he ate, and barely looked up at Astrena. 

"I take it you're still unhappy?" said Astrena in a flat tone of voice.

"If you read this report, you would be unhappy, too," said Desslok in a tart tone of voice. "A year of fleet reconstruction went down the drain with my last battle."

"Are you still angry at me?"

"Annoyed, yes. Angry, no."

"Then why are you annoyed?" asked Astrena. "I saved our lives."

"With a tactic the Star Force used against me years ago? A tactic bound to humiliate me?"

Astrena slammed down her fork. "Desslok, that was the one time I didn't have your humiliation in mind. Or do you forget we are in this _together_?"

"Father, mother," said Dellar.

"Yes?" said Desslok.

"We survived the battle, Father. Why are you and mother still fighting?"

Desslok put down his knife. Or, rather, he slammed it down. "Now, _Dellar_," he said in a dangerous voice.

"Desslok, don't speak that way to our boy," snapped Astrena. "He raised a very good point. I am no longer angry. I was, but no longer. Why are you blaming all of us?"

"What happened at Ashura was a blow to my pride. And my honor."

"Desslok, the best of us can be outmaneuvered."

"I make a point of not _being_ outmaneuvered," said Desslok.

"So, then, you are always right?" said Astrena with fire in her eyes. "What did you tell the Earthlings when you left the employ of Zordar? '_Maybe I would do it again, but I don't think so. There has to be a better way of life_.'"

"You are using my own words against me?"

"I am."

"I have killed men for less, Astrena."

"Then why don't you try it?"

"Try what?"

"Try killing me. If you _can_, that is."

Desslok snarled and reached for his weapon, slowly pulling it out of his holster and considering it. Then, his attention was broken by a sob from Dellar.

"You are the Heir of Gamilon! Why are you crying?" hissed Desslok.

"Father, please don't kill my mother!"

"Hmmm?" said Desslok. "Why?"

"Queen Starsha never gave you an heir," said Astrena. "I have done so. And I know I am safe with you. Your displays do not impress me, nor do they frighten me."

"Why?"

"Use your head, Desslok. I could stop your heart with a thought, if I thought you were truly dangerous. I can sense your thoughts. Like to try me?"

Desslok glared at her, and then he holstered his weapon. "You are right. You're only the second woman in the history of the universe who has made me do that."

"Yes. And thank your Gods I am more patient than Mrs. Wildstar."

"Why is that?" said Desslok with a smile.

"I think if you were married to Nova, she would have killed you already, Desslok. She does not have my patience, wisdom, or ability to sense the pain behind your blustering words! _Wake up!_ Gamilon is down there, before you. Granted, you are under attack. But you have won wars before. You command an Empire. You have allies. Why are you so threatened now? Why are you taking your rage out on all of us? Even Talan is concerned about you! And I am concerned about you! And you are making your son weep! What kind of man are you?"

"I am sorry," said Desslok with downcast eyes. "Invidia. That's why. Princess Invidia is behind this."

"Another one of your old enemies? Big deal," said Astrena with a glare and a wink.

"Invidia humiliated me like no one has done, before, or since. She cast me into prison, Astrena. Yes, I, Desslok of Gamilon. Cast into prison by a scheming bitch."

"A woman you have defeated before, and one you can defeat again," said Astrena. "We are almost home, Desslok. Your forces are ready to salute you. We made it."

"It still feels…hollow…"

"Because I aided you?"

"No…," said Desslok. "Because they got away. Because I don't know where that Turpitz is. Or what he will do next."

"Give this some time," said Astrena. "It will work out…you'll see…"

"I hope so…"

"Eat some breakfast!" laughed Astrena. "And give us a hug, would you?"

"You forgive me?"

"I do. I know it was but talk."

Desslok stood and hugged his wife and his son. Then, he looked out at the surface of his rebuilt home, Gamilon.

"I must stay alive," he said. "Astrena, as long as I live…"

"…Gamilon lives," she said.

Them Desslok smiled at her. "You know me too well."

"Yes," said Astrena. "I do."

* * *

**TO BE CONTINUED...**


	5. Chapter 5

**ALTERNATE TALES OF THE STAR FORCE**

**STAR BLAZERS****---****TREACHERY **

**Being the second part of _THE NEW COMET_--- BY: Frederick P. Kopetz**

* * *

This Act is being completed with the Cooperation and Assistance of Derek A.C. Wakefield (as usual)---_Freddo_

_Note: Some of the language and tactics seen in the Academy scene with the plebe at the end of the story were inspired by novels about West Point in the 1960's during the Vietnam War era. I would think EDF discipline would also be pretty strict with all of the wars Earth has been faced with, but, still Midshipman Carruthers is not a more sterling example of military leadership. --FREDDO_

* * *

**ACT FIVE: TRAINING**

* * *

**I. DUTY AGAIN CALLS**

**Earth**

**The Great Megalopolis**

**EDF Dockyards**

**Monday, July 15, 2205**

**0600 Hours: Earth Time**

* * *

Midshipmen Deke Wakefield and Jere Marrable reported to the EDF Patrol Cruiser _Rio Grande_ at last for their summer midshipmen's cruise; a cruise that would last until late August. They wore their usual red and white senior-year cadet uniforms. 

"You think they're gonna search our bags, Deke?" asked Jere "Brew" Marrable in a low voice.

"Damn straight they will," said Deke as they stood in line at the ship's gangplank. "You didn't bring it…"

"Bring what?"

"You damn well know what," said Deke.

"Midshipman Marrable," snapped the ship's Master at Arms, a sergeant who stood there next to a female Lieutenant named Patricia Steele, who was currently serving as the Officer of the Deck. "Present your bags for inspection."

"Aye, aye, sir," said Brew with a heavy heart. The Master at Arms opened one of the bags and pulled out two six-packs of Corona beer. "Look at this, Miss Steele."

"Midshipman!" snapped Steele.

"Aye, ma'am?"

"Do you think this vessel is a _party_ ship?" she said in an amused tone of voice.

"No, ma'am," said Brew.

"Then, why in the name of all that is holy have you brought these here?"

"I don't know, ma'am. So's I can chill between shifts?"

Some other Midshipmen laughed behind Marrable and Wakefield. "This isn't funny," said Steele. "I'm confiscating these. Sergeant Bruning, make sure these are discarded."

"Aye, ma'am."

"And, by the way, Midshipman, I'll be keeping an _eye_ on you," snapped Steele as she searched the rest of Brew's seabags. "And bear in mind that I don't hesitate to put people on report who play games."

"Aye, aye, ma'am," said Brew as he tried to keep his eyes off this snappy, brown-haired woman.

"You're free to board. Report to the ranking Navigation officer, Midshipman."

Brew saluted and left, glad to be away from this woman.

Deke was the next one to board. "Request permission to board," he snapped.

"You'll get it as soon as we search those bags," said Bruning. "What's in that purple bag? It looks unusual."

"Some personal effects," said Wakefield as he reluctantly handed over the bag that contained DJ, his drumsticks and pictures, and some other personal items.

"I see," said Bruning. He opened the bag and pulled out DJ. "Excuse me?" he said as he pulled out the Shetland weapon.

"That's one of my personal items. I'm authorized…"

"Midshipman," said Steele in a slow, low voice. "We don't allow you to bring personal weapons aboard. Did you know that?"

"There's ammo here, too, ma'am," said Bruning. "Looks like projectile clips."

"Sir," said Wakefield. "If you'd look at this letter. I have orders and permission to carry that weapon at all times."

"Let me see this," said Bruning in cold tones as he took the letter. "Ma'am, it's on the letterhead of the Commandant of the Space Fighters' Training School."

"And it has the Commandant's _signature_ on it?" said Steele as she exhaled a breath.

"Yes, ma'am," said Wakefield.

Steele looked at the letter. "It has the Commandant's seal on it, his signature, and…it's countersigned by Commodore Derek Wildstar?"

Steele handed the letter back to Bruning. "Midshipman, is this real?"

"Yes, sir," said Wakefield. "I was there when both of these men signed this letter."

"I can't allow this," said Bruning flatly. "Ma'am, we'd better confiscate this. And we'd better put this guy right on report…"

Steele raised her hand. "Technically, I could allow this…"

"You're allowing it?" said Bruning.

"I'd like to," said Steele. "These signatures look authentic. But I can't take the risk myself. Midshipman!"

"Ma'am," said Deke with a downcast heart.

"It looks like you've been ordered to carry this. But I can't allow this on my own authority. Secure that bag and give it to me."

"Yes, ma'am," said Wakefield as he closed the bag.

"We're going to see the Captain. He's going to have to clear this. Bear in mind that if he doesn't, I will have to recommend you be put on report."

"Yes, ma'am," said Wakefield in a low but annoyed voice.

_I don't believe this crap, _he thought. _A letter signed by two flag officers isn't good enough for these people?_

* * *

A while later, Deke was at attention before Captain Willis Chen, the skipper of the _Rio Grande_. Chen was a middle-aged man of mixed American and Asian ancestry; a rather dignified-looking man with a thin white mustache. 

"So, let's get this straight, Miss Steele," said Chen. "This Midshipman presented a letter supposedly granting him permission to carry this weapon."

"Yessir," said Steele quietly. Deke stood there, looking at DJ, which was before the Captain on a table in his quarters, along with several clips of ammo, his drumsticks, a portable music player, and pictures of Dawn, his mother, his late sister, and, finally, a picture of Dawn's mother.

"It looks legitimate enough," he said. "At least the signature of Rear Admiral DeLong looks authentic. However, Midshipman, how is it that you know Commodore Wildstar?"

"Sir, we met him briefly on leave a few days ago. His wife is an old friend of my friend, Jere Marrable. We happened to meet in Boulder, Colorado," said Wakefield, who was aware that he couldn't talk about the circumstances that caused him and Brew to serve together with Wildstar a few days ago. He was beginning to wonder if Wildstar had done the right thing in offering to co-sign this letter.

"I'll have to verify this," said Captain Chen as he took out a small notebook and flipped through it. "Lieutenant, telephone the Wildstar residence. It's here in the Megalopolis; this is the number."

"Yessir," said Steele. She dialed the number, and placed the call on speakerphone. After a few rings, Deke recognized Nova's voice. "Wildstar residence, sir," she said in brisk tones as she came before the small screen. Nova was in a white Headquarters uniform, and it looked like they had caught her brushing her hair.

"Commander," said Captain Chen. "I am Captain Willis Chen of the _Rio Grande_. Are you and your husband acquainted with a Midshipman known as Deke Wakefield?"

"Oh, yes, we are, sir," said Nova. "We met him on leave in Boulder. Sir, how may we help you?"

Steele's eyebrows went up on this one.

"I need to speak to the Commodore, please. It concerns an unusual letter that the Commodore supposedly countersigned on this cadet's behalf a few days ago. It's a letter permitting him to bring a projectile weapon aboard my ship."

"Sir, we were about to leave for a meeting with Commanding General Singleton," said Nova.

"Then, if I'm intruding, I'll…"

"No, not at all, sir!" said Nova. "I'll get the Commodore." Chen then heard the phone clunk down as Nova disappeared from the screen. A moment later, Commodore Wildstar appeared on the screen in uniform but with his ascot undone. Chen immediately saluted.

Wildstar returned the salute, and said, "Captain, what do you need?"

"Sir, I have a Midshipman here, one Deke Wakefield. In my hand I have a letter, dated by you in ink on the thirteenth, which you countersigned below Rear Admiral De Long. It supposedly grants this cadet permission to carry his weapon with him on "any and all assignments" on Academy letterhead. Sir, is this…?"

"Yes, Captain, it _is_ my actual signature. And the signature of Rear Admiral DeLong is also authentic."

"Why did you sign this, sir?"

"Because in speaking with this Midshipman, I saw the possible need to authenticate the Admiral's letter, Captain. You have before you a letter signed by two flag officers. I suggest you consider it an amendment to Midshipman Wakefield's boarding orders, Captain."

"Of course," said Chen.

"Now, if you'll pardon me, the Lieutenant Commander and I must be going. We're wanted in the Commander's office at 0800."

"Yessir," said Chen as he saluted again. Wildstar returned the salute, and the call ended.

Chen then looked at the letter. "I'm going to grant this, Midshipman," he said. "However, you are to keep it unloaded, and you are to use it only on the firing range. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yessir," said Deke, who thought, _Finally. Well, I always knew there was red tape in this Man's Navy._

"Lieutenant," he said to Steele. "Inspect his weapon, make sure there's nothing in his clip. Then, let him report to his section chief and get checked in, and get back to your post as Deck Officer until 0800. I want to cast off once we get these other Midshipmen processed."

"Yessir," said Steele. She checked the weapon, and said. "Sir, it's clear. I'm returning it to him."

Chen nodded. "Good luck, Wakefield," he said as Deke gathered up his effects. "And let this be an uneventful cruise, got it?"

Deke caught the look in the older officer's eyes. It meant, _Boy, don't cause me any more problems._

"Yessir," said Deke after he gathered up his things and his letter.

"Report to the acting Navigation Chief," said Chen. Deke saluted after Chen gave him a hard look. Chen returned the salute and said, "Dismissed."

"Yessir."

Then, as Wakefield and Steele walked through the passages of the _Rio Grande_, Wakefield asked, "Ma'am, who's the Navigation Chief on this ship?"

"Well, right now, you'll be reporting to Lieutenant Pequot. He's the assistant pilot you'll be serving under, but he's not the department head."

"Ma'am, who is the Group Leader?"

Steele gave him a tough look. "I am, Midshipman. I'll be lecturing everyone who has been placed in my Group later after we're underway and I'm relieved as Officer of the Deck by the Engine Group Leader."

"I see," said Wakefield.

"I've been in combat," said Steele. "I've seen a few battles, and I know what life is like out here beyond the classroom. You'll quickly learn that on board ship, we have no time for monkey business."

"I know, ma'am."

"You do?"

"Yes, ma'am. I've also seen combat."

"When?"

Deke knew he couldn't bring up this weekend's classified incident, so he said, "When I was in Junior Space Cadet Corps we saw combat during the food riots in the underground city of San Diego in 2200. I first used this weapon then."

"I see," said Steele. "Did you kill anyone then?"

Deke went silent for a long time. "Yes…I did."

"Who was it?"

"One of the rioters I killed…was a woman. I…I…don't want to get into it right now."

"When did you use that weapon again?"

"Well, we saw combat during the Rikasha Incident in California when enemy troops landed on Earth. I've actually killed enemy soldiers with my Shetland. That's why I'm permitted to carry it at all times…that, and that business in the riots…"

"I've also been in the Rikasha Incident," said Steele. "I saw combat on the space battleship _Potemkin_. The enemy held me prisoner for a time on our own ship before we were set free. Then, I was assigned to the ship when we got our revenge on those maniacs. I've been around."

"Well, I'm glad we can learn from you, ma'am."

Steele nodded. "I wish you luck. This will be no pleasure cruise."

"I understand that, ma'am."

"And tell your friend _not_ to look for that beer that we confiscated," said Steele with a hint of a smile on her face.

"Of course, ma'am…"

* * *

**II. WORDS FROM GAMILON**

**Earth**

**The Great Megalopolis**

**EDF Headquarters**

**Monday, July 15, 2205**

**0800 Hours: Earth Time**

**

* * *

**

Derek and Nova Wildstar stood at attention in Commanding General Singleton's office. They had just exchanged salutes with the Commander, who nodded and said, "You may sit down."

The Wildstars sat down as the Commander opened a folder. "You can probably guess part of the reason I called you here."

"The attack, sir?" asked Commodore Wildstar.

"Yes," he said. "Would you let me know what happened there, again?'

At that, Derek and Nova spent about twenty minutes telling Singleton everything that had happened in the battle in Colorado. Finally, Derek asked, "Sir, have there been any more activities on the part of the Josiahites?"

"No, none," said Singleton. "I have received some slightly disturbing news from the Gamilon Embassy, however."

"What happened?" asked Derek.

"Did something happen to Leader Desslok?" asked Nova.

"Desslok was almost assassinated recently at a planet named Ashura. Ashura is a planet of the Gamilon Empire that Desslok was trying to peacefully urge back into the Empire when he and Astrena and their son were attacked there. It turns out that some members of the planetary government were behind the assassination; along with agents of the Comet Empire."

"What happened to the Ashurans?" asked Commodore Wildstar as Nova squeezed his hand.

"Well, the report says that Desslok attacked their government in reprisal, but then, it states that the planet fell under attack by the Cometines. The Gamilons then defended the planet from the Cometine attack. It was a major attack, and the report states that the enemy used a ship carrying a Magna-Flame Gun there."

"The Magna-Flame Gun?" asked Derek. "It sounds like it was a major attack. Desslok won the battle?"

"Yes, but at great loss. The report states that Princess Invidia seems to be the mastermind behind the attack."

"Invidia?" said Nova. "I understand she was Prince Zordar's daughter."

"Do you think that we're going to be attacked again?" asked Commodore Wildstar.

"It sounds as if that might be a good possibility," said Singleton as he stood and faced Derek and Nova, placing a friendly hand on each of their shoulders. "But, as I've seen, nothing else has happened…yet. For now, we're just going to watch the situation carefully and keep Venture out on patrol on the _Arizona_."

"Sir, what will we be doing in the meantime?" asked Commodore Wildstar.

"The refit of the _Yamato _will continue; and I'll keep the _Arizona_ on patrol out there. For the time being, you and Nova will be assigned as instructors at the Space Fighters' Training School early in the new term. You'll have leave until mid-August, when you'll report to the Academy to begin setting things up for your tenure as instructors."

"Yessir," said Derek. "When do you think we might be going out again?"

"Sandor has told me that the refit might be done early next year. I am thinking that I might assign the _Yamato_ as a training vessel in the spring as part of her shakedown cruise."

"It sounds like a great idea," said Commodore Wildstar. "That way, it would fit in beautifully with our teaching duties. What will I be assigned to teach? Combat and Tactics?"

"Yes," said Singleton. "And I'd also like you to take some courses at the EDF War College at that time, too."

"And what will I be teaching?" asked Nova.

"Life Sciences Operations and Survey Operations," said Singleton. "I am thinking that if this crisis calms down, I may give you permission to enter medical school in September 2206, so, maybe, you can consider this teaching tour as preparation for medical school."

"Thank you, sir," said Nova with a wide smile on her face.

"That's if things remain peaceful out there," said Derek. "And that's _if _this crisis ends…"

"Oh…."

But, Nova was still smiling.

* * *

**III. DEREK AND NOVA MAKE A DESPERATE DECISION**

**Earth**

**The Great Megalopolis**

**The Vicinity of the Wildstar Residence**

**Tuesday, July 23, 2205**

**1849 Hours: Earth Time**

**

* * *

**

A few warm, lazy days passed.

Derek and Nova were having a little trouble adjusting to being home with nothing to do for the next four weeks, even though they were simply enjoying some long-accumulated leave that they had earned and hadn't used since about 2202.

Since there was no need for them to report to Headquarters, or anywhere else, for the time being, they reverted to civilian attire full-time. It was warm and humid most of the time, so Nova would usually either wear a short skirt or shorts with a loose top, a halter, or just a bikini top, except when they went to church. She also got hubby into shorts and a selection of different t-shirts of polo shirts most of the time. In the warm, hazy days, they gave up wearing socks since they either wore sneakers, sandals, or just went barefoot (especially with the inviting bayfront beach that was near their house).

One day, Derek was taking advantage of his new-found leisure time to sit on the beach on a towel in his swimsuit reading a newspaper and drinking a soda.

_This feels weird_, he thought_. I haven't thought about work the past few days…for like…a week? Slept late; got up, found a note that Nova was shopping and that she'd be back. Wonder how she got out of the house, though? Her car's still here, same with her bike…and why'd she just let me sleep?_

Wildstar sipped at his soda and then he turned on his radio. After some contemporary music played, a brief news report came on.

"And now, the afternoon update," said the announcer. "A joint communiqué from the Gamilon and Iscandarian Embassies was released today. In that report, the recent difficulties at the edge of the Garuman-Gamilon Empire were dismissed as a "minor border incident" by the Ambassadors of both Gamilon and Earth. Both governments deny that any further incidents have been taking place in deep space, and they state that the planned three-power talks for next year should still take place as scheduled. The Federal Government of Earth expects that either the _Yamato_ or the _Arizona_ will return to either Iscandar or Gamilon for this next round of high-level talks, which are intended to tighten trade and cultural ties between Earth, Gamilon, and Iscandar. Commentators also believe that private passenger travel via space liner may begin in the middle of next year if talks go well with the governments of Leader Desslok and Queen Starsha…now for the sports scores. Today, the Yomiuri Giants are playing the New York Yankees in Inter-Continental League baseball play between the North American and Asian Leagues, with no score as of yet in the Megalopolis at the bottom of the second…"

Derek turned off the radio. "Yeah, Nova and I have a bet going on that game. I wonder where she is?"

A few minutes later, Wildstar heard a jet speeder bike flying up the beach. He smiled as soon as he recognized the slender, bikini-clad blonde who was on the bike.

Nova pulled up right in front of him about a minute later, clad in a yellow and black bikini. "Hi, Derek!" she called.

"Where were you?"

"Shopping."

"Uh…in _that?_ It looks cute, but…"

Nova giggled. "I had one of those little Indian sundresses I have on over this in the store, and flip-flops. You don't need to be overdressed on the beach."

"Yeah, especially not on a day like today," said Derek. "Uh…what did you pick up?" Wildstar looked at the small saddlebag on the front portion of the bike, and he concluded Nova couldn't have been carrying much in that.

"Some beer, some snacks, and something else."

"What?"

"I'll tell you later," she said with an impish smile. "Wanna jump on with me? I'll drive us home."

Derek gathered everything on his up on a mesh bag, and he got on the bike behind Nova, hugging her tightly and nuzzling her neck and bare shoulder as he kissed her. That made her giggle. Then, he stroked his foot over her bare instep, and that made Nova giggle even more.

"Let's go," said Derek.

"Yes. If I can stop laughing, that is…"

They sped off for home.

* * *

About and hour and a half later (Derek _thought_ this might happen, but he had no complaints), he and Nova were lying together on a bigger beach towel in a part of their yard they made sure was hidden by trees and foliage. They were finally enjoying the beer; now, they were both nude, with very rumpled hair, and they were enjoying the afterglow of a _very_ sweet private time together in the yard. 

"So, what's in the bag?" asked Derek as he sat up to cuddle Nova some more in the sunset while they drank together from a can of Sapporo Beer.

"Something we need for a little operation," said Nova softly as she caressed her husband. "You think we might have peace, at last, right?"

"Yeah, if this crisis with the Comet Empire remains copasetic, that is. So, what's in the bag?"

"You know my prescription for the latest shot with Doctor Sane?" said Nova.

"Yes?" said Derek, who was both excited and a little scared by this.

"I tore it up this morning," said Nova with a smile as she sat in the shade not far from their pool cabana.

"Nova, you mean…we just did it…uh…?"

"Umm…hhh," said Nova with a devilish little smile.

"You mean…uh…my wave motion gun may have hit a…?"

"Uhhh..huhh," said Nova with a little smile.

"And you want to…?"

Nova then grinned and opened the bag. She was dangling a small, stuffed stork. "Let's just say that I think maybe he should pay the Wildstar household a visit sometime next year." Then, Nova got out another little bundle. It was a pregnancy testing kit. "And I'll check in a few days to see if he's on the way. Do you mind?"

Derek swallowed at this. _Should have expected this,_ he thought. _She's a nurse; gonna be a doctor. She never has been coy about this stuff_. "What do you wanna try for?" he said after a minute. "A boy or a girl?"

"Actually, I've been praying for twins," said Nova playfully as she played with Derek's hair. "Mom had twins, you know."

"You weren't twins."

"But they run in the family," said Nova in a sweet voice. She sat up again and held up her breasts. "You know, if it is twins, these thingies are going to get a lot of work."

"Now, I wonder how you're going to do that if you're working?"

"If it goes right, I'll be a medical student next year, remember? The Commander already said that my Reserve Commission can revert to regular reserve status while I'm in school. I'll be a weekend warrior at last. "

"Yeah, I remember that you have a reserve commission," said Derek.

"Yes, and I've been on active duty since 2199," said Nova. She picked a daisy and brushed it against Derek's stomach. "If everything goes right, don't you think we finally deserve a slower pace of life? A chance to act like plain old married people; a time of rest where we'll argue about my spending money on things rather than about who's on duty as Officer of the Deck?"

"Yeah. You know, if the _Yamato_ goes out next year and you're well along the way with a baby, I wouldn't want you coming with us…"

"I know. I wouldn't want to be there pregnant on the ship if we can avoid it," said Nova.

"You know, if this succeeds, you'll look cute in a maternity uniform at the Academy this fall."

"Thanks," said Nova as they hugged. "Want do you want to call our…new endeavor?"

"You're agreeing to it?"

Commodore Wildstar nodded.

"Operation Stork," said Nova. "And I'll hang this little stork doll up in the living room, under a picture of Our Lord. After all, we have to be fruitful and multiply _sometime._"

"Operation Stork it is," said Derek, as he kissed his wife again. Nova smiled and said, "Hmmm…you look happy," as she looked her husband up and down.

"I'm lying here hugging a very beautiful young woman whom I happen to be married to," said Derek. "Hey…to make sure Operation Stork works…"

"Let's try again?" said Nova as she stroked his hair. She held him close. "I thought you'd _never _ask!"

At that, they fell sighing contentedly into each other's arms against the sunset, and Nova dropped her daisy as her mind turned to…other things in her husband's arms.

* * *

**IV. INVIDIA'S ANGER**

**Main Operations Room**

**The _Eritz Gatlantis_**

**Wednesday, July 24, 2205**

**0849 Hours: Earth Time **

* * *

"I…I…cannot _believe_ your ineptitude!" yelled Princess Invidia as Dyre, Gorse, Gernitz, Turpitz, and Yvona Josiah stood before her throne on her Comet ship. "Gernitz, you told me that the capture of Ashura was a certain victory! But, you, Turpitz, and this mad, treasonous Earth woman come back empty-handed?" 

"I am not an Earth woman any longer!" snapped Yvona.

"I understand you were born on the Earth," bit back Invidia.

"I was not. My foremother, who is now dead, was born on Earth. I was cloned by her in a clone tank on the Grand Technomugar Fortress," said the clone of Yvona. "As such, I consider myself Technomugar, and I am the highest remaining official left of what is still a mighty Empire in the Blackeye Galaxy. As such, you address a Sovereign, and not a commoner, _Princess_!"

"Such arrogance," snorted Invidia. "And is not your foremother, the original Yvona, dead, as you said? And are you not a poor duplicate?"

"Yes, where _is_ your foremother?" mocked Turpitz.

"In hell, for all I know," said the clone of Yvona. "I am not broken up by that. I shall succeed where she failed. I am greater than she ever was!"

"Princess, does this sound familiar?" asked Dyre.

"You may be useful, but Desslok was a tool who failed me," said Invidia. "Why were you unable to assassinate the Gamilon like you said you would?"

"I was outclassed, but it shall not happen again," hissed Yvona.

"Were it not for the intelligence I have received from your fleets and from those damned R'Khells, I would have already have beheaded you," said Invidia. "As it is, go, and make certain your forces lend us some aid in the next battle."

"Where, Princess?"

Invidia made an image come up on a vast screen that made up the floor of this room. "As we have damaged the Gamilon Fleet at Ashura, this should be easy. This is Planet Rotella. It was one of Father's domains captured during his original reign on our way towards the Milky Way Galaxy. They were conquered again by you some years ago after you destroyed their capital, but they have declared their independence from us again and have turned into rebels. I cannot allow that. Gernitz, I want you, Turpitz, and this clone here to attack Rotella. I think you should easily be able to take it and crush it, and teach the rest of the Empire that I am not to be trifled with!"

"Yes, Princess," said Gernitz with a smile.

"Yvona, you said that the forces of R'Khell are great?"

"They are, Princess," replied Yvona.

"Very well. Test them. Lead some of your fanatics into battle at Rotella to assist us as we enslave that planet. Show their little native Fleet no mercy. I want Rotella crushed in thirty days."

"My pleasure," said the clone of Yvona with an acid smile.

"Then, with Rotella secured, we will then plan the deaths of Leader Desslok, and, our Terran friend Derek Wildstar. I'm sure you will like that."

"Yes. I would like to kill Wildstar's wife, Nova, too. She was my forebear's niece, and we hated her with a passion. She was the one who killed the original me. She also turned Desslok from your allegiance, Princess."

"Very well. Kill both Wildstars. But first, earn me a victory at Rotella."

"We will, Princess," said Gernitz with a bow.

* * *

**V. RE-ENTER JONATHAN**

**Earth**

**The Great Megalopolis**

**The Iscandarian Embassy**

**Saturday, July 27, 2205**

**0912 Hours: Earth Time **

**

* * *

**

On a nice, warm, pleasant morning, Derek and Nova Wildstar climbed out of their jet recon boat on the island off the shores of Honshu that housed the beautiful Iscandarian Embassy, a complex made of crystalline buildings like those on Iscandar, mixed with stone and brick buildings similar to those on Earth.

Astra Wildstar, who was serving for a time in the post of Iscandarian Ambassador to Earth, stood there in a blue dress with her young husband Conor coming up the path with Jonathan. After having been on Iscandar for a while, she, Conor, and Jonathan were back on Earth. The blueness of the sky and the gleam of the crystalline tower in the distance in the haze made the island off Japan seem so much like Iscandar that the resemblance was just eerie.

"I am so sorry we cannot come with you, today," said Astra. "My fear, and my mother's fear, is that we might be recognized…"

"That's all right; we understand," said Nova. She wore a pink dress, hose and pumps; while Derek wore one of his EDF uniforms. But, they looked wonderful together.

"Can my sister be there?" asked Astra.

"No, unfortunately," said Derek. "Sasha is in New York State for the summer receiving ground tactics training."

"Where?" asked Conor as he came up in a blue top and grey slacks.

"An EDF training base called West Point," said Commodore Wildstar. "It was once the site of the old United States Army's training academy. It's a ground training base now."

"I see," said Astra. "I'm so sad that my sister can't be here."

"I would have loved to have met Aunt Astra," said Jonathan as he came up, clad in a black suit with a vest and slacks that fit him very well. He wore a white jacket over it, and he carried a small Bible.

"You're sure you'd like to go through with this?" asked Conor.

"I'm sure. I had studied the Shintoism of my mother, and the Episcopalian beliefs of my father, but I liked the books that Derek and Nova left for me, so I decided I'd like to be baptized into their church," he said proudly.

"Well, may Destiny bless you, then," said Astra as she hugged her adopted son. Tears ran from her eyes as she thought: _he's growing up, and all too fast, too…he was just nine when he came to us; now he's twelve, not quite a boy, but not quite a man, either._

Nova put a friendly arm on Jonathan's shoulder and said, "Like to come with us? We have to be there at eleven."

"No, I can't," said Astra. "I know you'll have him back by this time tomorrow," she said as she handed Derek a bag that contained everything he would need for overnight, such as pajamas, a change of clothes, toothpaste and his brush, and that sort of thing…

"Bye mom, dad," said Jonathan as he hugged his adopted parents. Then, he left with Derek and Nova.

After the jet boat took off into the sky from the beach, Astra sat down in the sand and began to weep.

"Why are you crying, Astra?" asked Conor.

"That…premonition I had," she said. "The premonition that in a few years, not long from now, we're going to die in a war. And, again, before Jonathan reaches his adulthood, he'll have no parents…"

"I know," said Conor as he sat down and held Astra. "Maybe it won't come true."

"Not one like this," sobbed Astra.

"But, I think he will have parents, even if we are doomed," said Conor as he held Astra.

"Whom?"

"Nova and Derek. They are taking vows today to make sure he is raised in their religious faith…"

"Yes, they are..," said Astra. "What is the word for what they are becoming, today?"

"Godparents," said Conor. "I've done some reading on this…"

"Fits my premonition, then," said Astra. "They will become his parents, but, only, I think, when Nova is carrying her own children in her womb at that time…or, is it when she has already had them? The premonitions aren't certain…."

"Well, let us enjoy what time we have left," said Conor as he kissed his despairing wife. "After all, we will be alone all day…"

"I know," sobbed Astra. She smiled when Conor kissed her again and took her into his arms…"But, Conor…"

"Yes?"

"Jonathan…he must not know…not yet…"

"Of course…"

* * *

Saint Paul's Cathedral was _the_ major church of the Tokyo Megalopolis. It was a massive and beautiful modern structure built and used jointly by the Catholic Church and her two sister churches under the Concordant of 2200, namely, the Episcopal Church and American Community Church. As such, Saint Paul's had a main sanctuary (shared by all three denominations) and several smaller chapels in the vast complex. 

Later that morning, Derek and Nova held Jonathan's hands as they stood along in the third row of pews in the Cathedral's Chapel of Saint Matthew with the other young and old candidates and their parents as they recited the baptismal vows that would show their commitment to join (or to be raised in) the Christian faith…

"Do you," asked the pastor, "Do you renounce the spiritual forces of wickedness, reject the evil powers of this world, and repent of your sin?"

**"I do," **repeated Jonathan in a sincere voice.

The pastor then asked, "Do you accept the freedom and power God gives you to resist evil, injustice, and oppression in whatever forms they present themselves?"

**"I do,"** said Jonathan in chorus with the other candidates who could answer for themselves, and the young parents who were answering for their babies.

"Very well," said the priest. "Let us pray…"

During the pause, Nova kept her head bowed, but she smiled with a gentle expression at a delicate young mother next to her who had a tiny baby girl in her arms; the baby was fussing, and she was trying to quiet her as best she could. Nova smiled again when she heard the young father saying, "She'll need milk, soon…"

"I'll give her dinner in the grove behind the church when we're done, Brent," whispered the young mother, who smiled as the baby reached for her bosom, which showed a little in her sundress. "No, not yet, Felicia," she whispered. "I can't nurse you _here_. Not in God's House." The young mother was trying to show some reverence, even though she was aware that current Earth culture considered the repopulation of the Earth to be a priority and were, as such, tolerant of young children and the breastfeeding often needed to make sure they were adequately nourished and received the vitamins and antibodies they needed for proper growth.

"I understand, Brandi," said Brent with a smile as he touched his young wife on the arm.

"She's beautiful," whispered Nova.

"So's your son," said the young woman named Brandi. "He's so handsome."

"He's not ours," said Nova sadly. "We're about to become his godparents, though. His parents…well, they can't come to church very often."

"I see," said Brandi.

The priest turned back to the congregation. "The remaining questions shall be asked of the parents, godparents, and candidates as they present themselves. Would you please begin to come forward?"

At that, Baby Felicia really began to cry and wail. Some in the pews smiled; others looked at Brandi and Brent with minor looks of annoyance (even as they tried to deal with their own children).

"She'll need that milk," whispered Brent.

"Darn; we didn't bottle anything," whispered Brandi. "Guess I'll have to be…discreet…hope no one minds much…"

Before long, Jonathan went up with his godparents. Nova looked behind her, smiling softly again as the young mother had discreetly undone her sundress a little, just enough to let the fussing Felicia have just a little milk so she would be quiet during her baptism. Brandi smiled at Nova with a little embarrassment, wiggling her toes in her open sandals as she went forward. Nova just smiled back, understanding Brandi's predicament.

What Nova did not know was that in almost exactly three years to the day in the future, _she_ would be in the same predicament with her own baby twins. But, she didn't think of such things as she and Derek came up before the baptismal font with their hands on Jonathan's shoulders and the priest said, "Commodore, Nova, I recognize you."

"Father Likanski!" said Derek with a smile; he was the same man who had married them about three and a half years ago. "How are you, Father."

"Fine," he said. "Did you and Nova decide to adopt?"

"No," said Nova. "Jonathan here has expressed a desire to enter into the Faith. His parents are in an important government post and couldn't be here today, so we've decided to stand as his sponsors and godparents."

"You are aware, of course, that this involves a solemn vow to see to it he is raised in the Faith if his parents cannot do so?"

"We are, Father," said Derek.

"We also intend to become godparents in the most traditional sense," said Nova, "And we intend for our vow to be construed before God in the sense that we intend to be able to take him in and raise him if his parents ever cannot do so. His current parents…are his foster parents. He's lost both of his."

"I see," said Father Likanski as he looked at Jonathan, who wiped away a tear as he remembered the loss of his parents. "Well, we'll take the vows with that in mind, then. Do you, Derek and Nova Wildstar, of good faith and morals, swear before God and Man to raise this child in the nurture and admonition of the Church?"

"We do," they said.

Then, the priest looked down at Jonathan and took his hands. "Please recite your full name."

**"Jonathan Hartnell-Iiyama Wildstar, Father."**

**"Do you, Jonathan," **asked the priest as he looked at the young teenager, "Do you confess Jesus Christ as your Savior, put your whole trust in His grace, and promise to serve Him as your Lord, in union with the Church which Christ has opened to people of all ages, nations, and races?"

"I do," said Jonathan.

"Then," said the priest as he got a handful of water out of the font as Jonathan bowed his head over the waters "I bury you in the waters of Baptism, in identification with the Death and Burial of our Savior," he said as he immersed Jonathan's head and shoulders with the water. After drying him, he took Jonathan by the hands and helped him to stand, "And, thus, I raise you to a life of Resurrection and Righteousness in union with Christ, Whom you have professed as your Savior and Lord. Welcome this day to the Fellowship of His Church."

The priest hugged Jonathan, who then hugged both of his godparents. They smiled and thanked the priest as they turned to leave; Nova looked at Felicia's mother and was relieved to see (for her sake) that she had quieted her baby daughter and made herself wholly decent again before going up to see the priest with her husband.

* * *

Later that day, at the Wildstar home, Jonathan (who had changed into gym shorts and a t-shirt; like the Wildstars, none of them wore shoes in the house) sat at the dinner table talking with his godparents about how he had come to be interested in Christianity. 

"I read a couple of books on Iscandar, and I made my commitment there, right after the end of the school year, before I came with mom and dad to Earth on the spacecraft carrier _Wasp_, that is."

"I see," said Derek. "You're aware you'll have to come to church with us tomorrow?"

"Uh-huh."

"Do they have a church on Iscandar, yet?" asked Nova.

"Yes. They started one at the Terran New Fiji Island colony there. Mom and dad said I could go there when we go back for a while later this year."

"Do you think you'll be going to school on Earth?" asked Derek.

"No; we're supposed to leave in about a week; that's dad and I. Mom will be here until the end of the year. I'll miss her," said Jonathan.

"Would you like to stay on Earth for a while?" asked Nova. "I can ask your parents tomorrow…"

"But then, I'll miss Dad...and Iscandar. It's always warm there; it's fun. Feels kind of like I'm back there now, matter of fact, with it being summer and all," he said as he looked at the balcony, and walked out to look at the Megalopolis. He looked up the hill at the glittering houses, and his eyes filled with tears when he recognized one of them.

Nova came up behind him and asked, "What's wrong?"

"I see my mom and dad's old house. And someone else is living in it now. That's horrible! Who owns it now?"

"Believe it or not," said Nova in as soft a voice as she could manage. "You do, now."

"I do?"

Nova nodded. "My father's law firm…they managed your estate and I was appointed executor to the will when it was finally probated, since my niece, Astra, couldn't handle those legal matters from Iscandar. We have tenants living there; renting the house. I've arranged it for you so that the house can be taken care of and for it to be rented out to provide an income source for you, for your future education, if you want it. After whatever expenses are administered that have to be by my father's partners, the rest of the rent money is yours, along with what you got from your father, mother, sister, and their death claims against the cruise line company," said Nova softly. "It's being held in trust for you until you turn eighteen, but you are a very rich young man now."

Jonathan cried at that. "I know, but it won't bring mom and dad back! Or Michelle!"

"Do you want us to let the house sit empty when the lease runs out at the end of the year?" asked Derek.

"Yes…I mean…no…if I can't live there, that is…might as well make money from it, until I can," sobbed Jonathan.

Derek and Nova smiled softly and sadly at each other, and then they held Jonathan as he forgot his age and cried.

_I wish we could do more to comfort you,_ thought Nova. But what can we do? _God, please guide us…_

* * *

"No, no, no, NO," cried Jonathan as he tossed and turned in his sleep in his bed that night in one of the Wildstars' guest rooms. "No, please, stop doing it…no, please! Stop that, NO!" 

In his dream, Jonathan was reliving the following horrible scene:

**January 10, 2202--0318 Hours-Space Time**

_The panicked boy had just been separated from his sister when more of the bulkheads in the area had collapsed. He had no idea if she was alive or not as he ran towards the bridge to look for his parents, huffing, puffing, and freezing in only his pajama bottoms and flip-flops since the ship's temperature was dropping due to the failure of many of the atmospheric control units. It was actually a good thing that this section of the liner still had some heat, air and gravity. Otherwise, Jonathan might have already joined many of his fellow passengers in death._

_Please God, please let Mom and Dad still be alive__he thought as he looked into the liner's bridge. _

_What he saw there was chaos. The Captain and most of the crew were dead...and, as he noticed with horror, his father seemed to be dead, too. Sadly, that section was empty, although the chairs had been torn apart by some force._

_"Dad?" he cried. "DADDY?"_

_The boy tiptoed closer. He looked down at his father's body and promptly felt very ill._

_With a scream, he ran back down the stairs to the main corridor, and tripped over his mother._

_She was lying face-up on the carpeted deck, staring at the overhead light with eyes that were too wide, fixed, and far too vacant for her to still be alive. Her dress had been partially torn off, and the exposed parts of her body were covered with blood._

_"Mommy?" he cried as he ran over. "MOMMMY?" he cried as he shook his limp, unresponsive mother. "Wake up! Please! Are you dead? NO!"_

_"Damned right she's dead, you stinking pile of SCUM! " yelled a rough voice that suddenly came from down the corridor._

_"Who...?"_

_Then, the alien raider who had recently murdered his mother was upon him like a demon from hell…._

Jonathan began to twitch and moan in his sleep as the horrible nightmare continued, and grew even worse…

* * *

In their bed, in a dim room, Derek Wildstar kissed his wife as she lay on top of him with her light sleep shirt open. The Commodore wore pajama bottoms, which were currently a bit less than fully closed, shall we say. 

"So how are the tests going?" asked Derek in a whisper.

"Nothing, yet," said Nova as she lay almost skin-to-skin against her husband. "But maybe tonight'll do it. Oh God! You don't think…"

"Jonathan heard us?" said Derek. "He's down the hall, Nova. And we have thick walls and heavy wooden doors in this house. We did a test with a tape recorder, once, remember? No one can hear anything in here, unless we turn on the intercom…"

"Thank God," said Nova as she smiled. "So, then…?"

"What?"

"Shall we try again, for good luck?" said Nova in a tiny voice.

Derek smiled, but, before he could answer, a blood-curdling scream filled the whole house. It was coming from Jonathan's room.

"Oh no!" Nova said. "Jonathan!"

Derek said, "He must be having a nightmare. When the event does happen, this'll be good practice for parenthood, Nova…"

"Uh…yeah," said Nova as she tried to make herself as decent as she could as she jumped out of bed. Most (but not all) of her sleep shirt was buttoned as she jumped out of bed and tore out of the room, followed by Derek, who got his pajama bottoms up and closed just in time. He had no top on.

"Jonathan!" cried Nova as she and Derek tore into the room and saw the boy thrashing and crying out in his pajamas; which were shorty pj's with the Star Force arrow on the short-sleeved shirt. "Jonathan!"

"Nooo…get away from me, Kranel!" he screamed in his nightmare as he scratched at Nova, who ignored the cuts she got in her forearms as she and Derek tried to hold the thrashing boy. "NOOOOO! Noo…nnnn…"

Then, he woke up, and found he was sprawled in Nova and Derek's laps. "I…uh…."

"It's all right," whispered Derek softly as he tousled Jonathan's hair. "It's all right, Jon…"

"I…oh, God, no, I peed myself! I wet your bed, I'm…."

"It happens," said Nova gently as she tried to finish buttoning her sleep shirt as she realized (with a deep blush) that more of her was showing than she desired.

Jonathan noticed and felt another pang of pain; he had seen his mother like this, once with her dress open, bloody and dead. Nova's body, at least, was strong, whole, and alive. "I'm sorry," he said as he buried his face in Nova's bosom

Nova held him close; she was decent enough now, and she decided that the boy might need to feel the soft warmth of part of her chest for a moment. "It's okay, Jonathan. We'll deal with the bed in the morning…right now, we just have to get you cleaned up…"

"I…"

"I know you wet yourself," said Nova as she hugged him. "It's all right…"

"I…I…"

"I have nightmares about my parents dying, too," said Derek tenderly as Nova gently pulled Jonathan's soaked pajamas off and tossed them onto the carpeted floor.

"But you don't…"

"Don't ever tell a soul," said Derek tenderly, "But I've done that, too…when those nightmares hit me. Once, I even did it in bed with Nova…nothing to be ashamed of…"

"But….you're seeing me, like…"

"I'm a nurse, I've seen worse," said Nova with a soft smile. She stroked Jonathan's naked back and said, "You _are_ very cute and big for twelve, you know…from the top of your head to the tips of your toes…"

"Thanks, but I'm growing up…not even sure where I am…I…."

"We can see that," said Nova dryly as she looked his trembling, shivering adolescent body up and down as he quickly covered himself with his hands. "Now, let's get you in the bathroom and get you washed up…Derek, get him another set of pajamas or underwear from his bag? I'll dress him in there when I'm done helping him wash up. His hands are shaking, poor dear…"

"Right," said Derek softly as Nova gently urged Jonathan into the bathroom. Derek handed her a clean set of boxers for Jonathan, and he began pulling up the bedclothes as Nova shut the door to Jonathan's small bathroom. Derek heard the sound of the water coming on and he was comforted by knowing his gentle wife had everything under control with the confused and sleep-fogged boy.

* * *

A while later, Jonathan grew drowsy as clad in only a fresh pair of boxers, he lay in bed between Derek, who was warm and strong as he lay there tousling his hair and telling him the story of how his parents had died, and Nova, who was warm and soft as he practically lay in her lap. Her sleep shirt was soft, silken, and smelled sweet, like she did. Fluffy, Nova's little white cat (who stayed with her parents when they were away in space) lay purring in a semi-sleepy state between her mistress' ankles, occasionally yawning as she looked up at the little family that lay there trying to comfort each other in their loss. 

"So, you lost your parents, too, during the Gamilon War," said Jonathan as he looked at Derek.

"Yes, I did," said Wildstar.

"We've all lost people that we loved in these horrible space wars," said Nova. "That's why we're hoping and praying that things will finally stop."

"Are you two hoping to have your own kids?"

"We are; very soon," said Derek. "And we'll be honored to have you with us tomorrow…"

"Can I ask a favor?" asked Jonathan as Fluffy meowed. Nova reached down to pet the cat, and then she picked the little animal up and let Jonathan play with her as she purred.

"What?" asked Nova.

"Can you take me to the _Yamato_ again tomorrow?" he asked. "Before I go home?"

Nova looked at Derek, and he said, "If we call Sandor and give him enough notice, I think we can visit the ship."

"Great," said Jonathan. "You know, I've always wanted to join the Earth Defense Forces? Or the Iscandarian ones?"

"What do your parents think?" asked Derek.

"Dad thinks it's cool. Mom; I don't know about Mom yet. She's pretty, but she says I should know…"

"The ways of peace?" said Derek.

Jonathan nodded.

"Someone has to defend that peace, you know."

"And you have to do it," said Jonathan.

"Yes," said Derek.

"Although we're praying that we can have a little break," said Nova.

At that, Jonathan nodded. Then, a short while later, he went to sleep between Nova and Derek. He didn't know it, but this would not be the last time they would have to comfort him after a nightmare…even though he would soon be returning to his foster parents…

* * *

**VI. THE LAST TRAINING DAY**

**The Solar System**

**Between Jupiter and Mars**

**Space Patrol Cruiser _Rio Grande_**

**Monday, August 26, 2205**

**0847 Hours: Earth Time **

* * *

On the _Rio Grande_, Deke Wakefield was currently serving a watch as the ship's helmsman. During their cruise, he had served on every other post on the bridge, and he had also flown a few patrol flights, but this was the first time they had let him near the ship's helm. He was excited at this, but he was also a bit apprehensive. 

He tapped occasionally on the console with a finger. He wasn't allowed to have his drumsticks with him on watch, and it drove him out of his mind.

"Helm," said Captain Chen. "Twenty degrees to port."

"Helm, twenty to port," repeated Deke as he changed course.

"Mister Marrable," said Chen. "Are our main guns up and on-line?"

"Affirmative, sir," said Brew from Combat.

"Tracking three approaching asteroids," said Lieutenant Patricia Steele from the cosmo-radar. "Range, six megameters, speed of first object, six space knots, speed of second asteroid, three space knots, speed of third asteroid, four space knots."

"Combat, assume that all three asteroids are enemy ships," said Captain Chen. "Bring us to battle stations."

Brew hit the switch and the klaxons came up. "All hands, to combat stations, repeat, all hands, combat stations!"

"Securing all hatchways and passages," said a Midshipman named Damon who sat at engineering.

"No communications from enemy vessels," said a Midshipman named Nicole Bennington from Communications.

"Damage control teams are ready," said a Midshipman named McMahon, who was sitting at the Mechanical Engineering post.

"Range of enemy vessels, between four and five megameters," said Steele.

"Helm, adjust course, ten port," said Captain Chen.

"Ten degrees port," said Wakefield as he worked the controls.

"Ready main guns," said Captain Chen.

"Main guns being prepared," said Marrable. "Correct bearing, fifteen degrees to port. Adjust vertical angle, plus five degrees," he said as he called out the gunnery solution and the cadet at the Artillery post began to make sure the guns were laid on target. The _Rio Grande's_ forward turrets turned, and then locked into place as the guns hummed onto target, locking to with loud clanks.

"Gunners report ready," said the Midshipman at Artillery.

"Seek permission to fire," asked Marrable.

"Granted, fire at will," ordered Captain Chen.

"Open fire!" barked Brew as he hit the firing pickle.

The guns went off, blasting towards the first two asteroids with two energy beams for each asteroid. The asteroids blew apart.

"Last ship is evading," said Steele from the radar as some fragments from one of the asteroids knocked it off course. "Bearing changed to three hundred degrees, heading, above the ecliptic in block Alpha Tango!"

"Change course, twenty-two degrees port, ten degrees yaw," said Captain Chen.

Deke looked at the Astro-compass and began to work the proper thrusters.

"Come on, Midshipman!" barked Chen. "Where is that course change? We're in _combat_, Mister!"

"Sir," said Deke as sweat ran down his back. "Course change complete! We need more power to catch up!"

"Order engineering to increase power!" said Chen.

"Engineer, increase power!" said Deke.

"Aye, sir, increasing power to wave engine!" said Damon. "Increase to third space speed!"

The ship soon caught up with the asteroid and again opened fire. It blew apart the asteroid.

"Mission completed," said Captain Chen. "Great job, everyone, but you'll have to speed that reaction time up a bit in the Fleet. Mister Wakefield, set a course for Mars around the asteroid belt."

"Yessir," said Deke.

"What's our ETA at Mars, Mister?" said Chen in a deceptively casual voice.

"1300 Hours, sir," said Wakefield as he looked back at Captain Chen.

"Good show. At 1300, make preparations for our final space warp. I'd like to dock in the Megalopolis by dinner time."

"Yessir," said Deke with a broad grin. _And this is the end of the cruise_, he thought. _Not a bad couple of weeks, learning how much we really don't know. Whoopee. We don't know shit._

Upon landing at 1930, Deke and Brew found they had a 24-hour liberty before they were to report back to the Academy on Wednesday the 28th.

"So what do we have to do at the space school this week?" asked Deke as he and Brew walked around the dockyard area, watching some of the larger space warships coming in for landings as they waited for their airbus. They were shouldering their seabags and carrying their gear bags, but they had little problem with the weight, being in good physical shape.

"You know, man, the usual "harass the plebes" shit," said Brew in an amused voice.

"Yippee," said Deke. "Like I really feel like harassing a bunch of new greenies this week. Let the juniors do it. That's their job."

"What's _with_ you, Dekesticks?" asked Brew. "We have to uphold our reputation as the gods in red and white for those screwups. I kinda had fun doing that last year."

"It got old for me _really fast_," said Deke.

"So what's your problem, bro?"

"You know! I was hoping they'd hold off on report date until after Fleet Day next week," said Deke. "I was hoping…"

"To go to San Diego?"

"Damn straight," said Deke. He stopped near a pier support and leaned against it, looking off across the bay to the gleaming light that was on top of the Heroes' Hill Memorial in the distance at College Point.

"Why?"

"You damn well _know_ why, Brew," said Deke as he stood there in his red and white Senior Midshipman's uniform. "I was hoping to see someone I haven't seen in too damn long, and…"

"You and the squirrel again, huh?" said Brew.

"Yeah, me and the squirrel again," said Deke as he saw the bus pulling up. "C'mon, let's get on the Goddamn bus…"

* * *

After the bus ride to the Academy and the usual procedures that had to be followed with checking into their billet and the like, Deke and Brew went out for a walk on a particularly steamy, humid night. Humidity hung around the light globes as the sounds of laughter, music, and the occasional discordant yells of a plebe getting racked rang across the campus. 

"So, what's on your mind?" said Deke as he stopped at the top of a hill and tapped on a fence rail with his drumsticks.

"Going to the club and getting some brew before the night is out," said Brew. Juniors and seniors were allowed access to a small _Rathskellar_ (Bar) on campus, but the beer ration was strictly limited for Midshipmen. Officers could stop by the "Rat" and have as much as they wanted. Of course, sophomores and plebes were not allowed past the doors of the Rat; a cadet guard watched the entrance and checked ID cards, since far too many sophomores had attempted the little game of borrowing a junior's blue and white uniform to try and sneak into the Rat.

Deke stopped as Brew noticed something down the other side of the hill.

"What, Brew?"

"Down there. Don't you hear it?"

Deke listened. He heard a junior yelling at some plebe. "And you'd better call those pushups out even louder! C'mon, can't hear you, son! _Spout off_!"

"C'mon, let's get out of here; I don't need this crap tonight," said Deke.

"That's Caruthers testing his leadership skills," said Brew.

"Oh, not _that _asshole," said Deke as he rolled up his eyes.

"Hey, he sees us, he'll be expecting senior backup," said Brew. "Let's go down and give him a little hand, OK?"

Deke rolled up his eyes. "Okay." As he walked down the hill, he heard the harried plebe continuing to do pushups and yelling, "_Sir!_ Thirty six! _Sir!_ Thirty-seven!"

"I can't _hear_ you, Fourth Classman!" barked Caruthers.

"SIR! THIRTY-EIGHT! SIR! THIRTY-NINE!"

"Still can't hear you!" yelled the junior.

**"SIR!**** FORTY PUSHUPS, SIR!"** yelled the plebe, whose voice was breaking.

"All right, you piece of crap, get up!" yelled Caruthers. "GET UP!"

The quaking plebe stood up as Deke and Brew approached.

"What's this Fourth Classman's problem, Mister Caruthers?" asked Deke.

"Shoes unshined, belt buckle has green crap on it I can see from here…" said Caruthers.

"Cadet, do you know what Brasso is for?" said Deke mildly.

"Sir, no excuse, SIR!" yelled the Fourth Classman as he braced.

"What's your name?" said Brew as he circled around the Fourth Classman.

"You know your _name_," said Caruthers with a sneer. "Pop off!"

"Sir! My name is Shitbird R. Condom, sir!"

_Oh, Caruthers you are a real jackass tonight, _thought Deke irritably.

"Is it?" said Caruthers.

"Sir, you said that was my name, _sir!_"

"I don't think that's his name," said Deke. "Midshipman, state your real name. Remember, we are now under the Honor Code, son."

"Sir, my name is Midshipman Fourth Class Decker, James R., _sir!_"

"That ain't your name!" yelled Caruthers.

Deke raised his hand for silence. "I don't believe it," said Deke dryly. "This Midshipman can actually talk in something like a normal voice if spoken to normally. And its mother gave it a normal name. Ain't that funny, Mister Marrable?"

"Yeah, it's real amusing," said Brew.

"I have some advice for you," said Deke. "Like to hear it?"

"Sir, yes, _sir_!" barked Decker.

"Go shine your shoes tonight, and go fix up that gross belt buckle. Then Midshipmen like Mister Caruthers will have no excuse to yell at you and play, and officers won't be giving you slips to walk punishment tours. Is that understood, Mister?"

"Sir, yes _sir!_" cried Decker.

"I can't _hear_ you, Fourth Classman!" yelled Caruthers.

"I can," said Deke irritably. "And I did. That's all we need."

"Are you telling this man to _ignore_ me?" barked Caruthers.

"You got that wrong," said Deke. "That should be, "are you telling this man to ignore me, _sir_?"

"Sir, are you telling this man to ignore me?" barked Caruthers.

Deke got in close to Caruthers' face and whispered, "I'm saying this has gone far enough. There's a difference between discipline and _hazing_, Caruthers. I see two officers coming up the hill. Unless you want them to catch you hazing this poor shitbird and end up doing punishment with him, I suggest you stop this."

Caruthers stared at Deke with an angry expression and whispered, "I'm gonna remember this, Wakefield. You're making me look bad, _sir_."

"Then get the hell out of here before I make you look worse," said Deke in a low voice as he stared into Caruthers' eyes for a minute.

"Aye, aye, _sir_," said Caruthers. Caruthers then said, "Midshipman Fourth Class Decker, _get the hell out of my sight_!"

"Sir, yes _sir!_" said Decker.

"And fix those items!" said Wakefield. "Dismissed! Carry on!"

"Sir, yes _sir!_" said Decker. He snapped to, saluted the others, and got out of there as fast as he could.

As soon as he disappeared over the crest of the hill, a low, alto female voice said, "Mister Caruthers, are you losing your voice?"

Then, Deke and Brew were relieved to see Derek and Nova Wildstar (in the red and white uniforms of Academy professors) coming out from the humid haze. But, remembering protocol, Deke yelled, "Company, _ten'shun_!"

All three Midshipmen came to attention as the two Wildstars looked them over. Derek then said, "Mister, Mrs. Wildstar was asking you a question. Losing your voice?"

"No, sir. Dealing with a stupid plebe. Bad belt buckle, sir. Gross shoes."

"I don't see any plebes here, do _you_, Derek?" said Nova in a mild tone of voice. "Funny, I can still remember wearing a green and white uniform in ROTC first year. Didn't it make you sort of…uh…stand…"

"Yeah. It made you stand out," said Derek as he played "dumb" and looked back and forth, swiveling his head ostentatiously. "Two of these Midshipmen have on red and white uniforms. One of them has on a blue and white uniform. Where did the plebe go?"

"Did you eat him, Mister?" said Nova. "Or did you put him in a beer can and drink him, Mister Marrable?"

"Ma'am. Mister Wakefield thought he got the point," said Brew. "Mister Wakefield dismissed him."

"Now why would you do something like _that_, Mister Wakefield?" said Derek in a mock mournful tone.

"Sir, I thought that the plebe had gotten the point, sir," said Wakefield.

"And you didn't want Mister Caruthers to strain his voice any more?" said Nova.

"Ma'am, I didn't want the plebe to strain his voice any more. He had some minor uniform infractions. We corrected them and felt he could go on. That was it, ma'am."

"I see," said Derek. "At ease, gentlemen," he said.

The three midshipmen relaxed to at-ease.

Then, Wildstar said, "We need to train these men and women hard, people. They need to break out of their civilian habits and learn to snap to. I know damn well you don't do that by coddling people. But you don't break their spirits or their minds, either. And Second Classmen, the last time I checked, are responsible for keeping discipline _and_ responding to the orders of First Classmen. When a senior tells you it's gone far enough, Mister Caruthers, it has gone far _enough_. Game over. Got that?"

"Yessir," said Caruthers, who gulped as this flag officer looked at him with calm, steely eyes above his gold collar and bars.

"I just want to make sure we understand each other," said Wildstar. "You're dismissed, Mister Caruthers. Carry on."

"Yessir," said Caruthers as he saluted and left.

Derek Wildstar took a deep breath as Nova leaned against the wooden fence. "So, how was your summer cruise?" asked the Commodore

"Sir, while we were out there, we learned everything that we _didn't_ know," said Deke. "We don't know it all."

"You're learning," said Commodore Wildstar. "You've just passed the first lesson of senior year. And the most important."

"What are you two doing here in faculty uniforms?" asked Brew.

"We're faculty for now," said Nova. "Derek, I remember people like Mister Caruthers. Don't you?"

"Yes, They were named Randy Parmon," said Commodore Wildstar.

"Sir, what's a 'Randy Parmon?' asked Brew.

"They come from the same species as a person named Mickey Stovall," said Nova quietly.

Deke immediately perked up his ears and took notice. "Ma'am, you know him?"

"Yes. A nasty Marine who got busted out of here for something some years ago. He tried something with me and ended up in the brig in Leavenworth for it," said Nova. "Do you know him?"

"Ma'am," said Deke as everything that had taken place in regards to his association with _that_ man poured through his head. "We met here. It…well…it was not pleasant."

"I knew his brother Lance when I was a Midshipman," said Derek. "That guy was _another_ piece of work."

"Sir," said Deke nervously. "Do you know about how we met?"

"No, I don't," said Commodore Wildstar mildly. "I've heard your record has some interesting notations in it, but I've never actually read it, myself. And, as your Carrier Air Group Tactics instructor this fall, I don't think I'll have an opportunity to, either. After all, I'm just going to be a professor here, not a tactical officer or disciplinary officer. As a professor, they usually don't let us look at cadet personnel jackets. I'm only going to be concerned about your grades and conduct in my class. I probably won't see your full record until you graduate and you end up in a command of mine."

"I see, sir," said Deke as he released a mental sigh of relief. _Good, he won't know_, he thought. _He won't know I almost blew my career down the toilet once for Dawn because of that prick Stovall. He won't know about Wakefield's Revenge. _

"What are you teaching, ma'am?" asked Brew.

"Basic Radar and Survey Operations, mostly to lowerclassmen," said Nova. "I also have a section of First-Year Biology that I'll be teaching. Yes; I'll get to scare some plebes," said Nova sadly as she looked down at her boots for a minute. "Yippee…"

"I see," said Brew.

"We just wanted to thank you for…this summer…and wish you guys luck," said Commodore Wildstar. "Who's your Advanced Flight Training and Tactics instructor?"

"Jefferson Hardy, sir. I also had him last year for Basic Flight Training and Tactics," said Deke. "Great guy, sir."

"Wonderful," said Commodore Wildstar. "If you'll excuse us, gentlemen, the Lieutenant Commander and I were on our way home. Carry on."

"Yessir," said Deke and Brew. They saluted, and promptly headed off down towards the Rat, leaving Derek and Nova alone.

"I called it right," chuckled Commodore Wildstar. "On their way down for some brew, I bet. Hey, Nova, want some? We spent a long day with those lesson plans."

"No, I don't want any beer tonight, Derek," said Nova in a depressed, quiet voice.

"Nova, what's wrong?"

"My little test that I'm taking in the mornings?" she said sadly. "Still negative…when I…I…want it to be…positive…and Jonathan's home with Astra and Conor, but…I…I want children of our _own_, Derek, I…."

She then held him and began to cry softly.

"Oh, I'm so sorry, Nova….I'm…"

"I know you're trying; you're so patient with me," she sobbed. "Maybe we should go see Doctor Sane about this? There…there must be something _wrong_ with me!"

"I'll call for an appointment in the morning, Nova," replied Derek softly as he held his wife and stroked her hair.

"Thank you; I love you…"

"I love you, too…."

* * *

**TO BE CONTINUED...**


	6. Chapter 6

**ALTERNATE TALES OF THE STAR FORCE**

**STAR BLAZERS****---****TREACHERY **

**Being the second part of _THE NEW COMET_--- BY: Frederick P. Kopetz**

* * *

This Act is being completed with the Cooperation and Assistance of Derek A.C. Wakefield (as usual)

Also, for my fans here on this update took a little longer than expected, but I introduced a few new plot elements and characters in this chapter that will be important for the story later on; this will seem to be a chapter that goes all over the place, but it is a setup for much, much, more that you will soon see, and I think you will like it-consider the next few chapters and the next few ficlets something like one of Alfred Hitchcock's famed slow buildups to something that will turn into some very suspenseful stuff later on as the war again gets more desperate for our heroes---_Freddo_

* * *

**ACT SIX: A WATCHFUL PEACE**

* * *

**I. SEEKING A LITTLE CHANGE**

**Earth**

**The Great Megalopolis**

**Central Hospital: Doctor Sakezo Sane's Office**

**Saturday, September 7, 2205**

**01000 Hours: Earth Time**

* * *

Nova Wildstar sat naked on an examining table, wiggling her toes lazily with a note of irritation on her face as Doctor Sane prepared yet another scanner for yet another scan. Since the couple was still having a problem conceiving, Nova had recommended that they see Doctor Sane. After two hours' worth of uncomfortable (and rather embarrassing) examinations for both of them, Nova was beginning to wonder if she was doing the right thing or not. "We'll be done soon, Nova. Just one more scan of you, seated, please." 

"With another cold scanner, I bet, right?" said Nova as she sighed at put her arms above her head. Derek sat near her in a chair in his civilian outfit of a t-shirt, jeans, and flip-flops; he had just gotten dressed again after a similar (and for him, _very_ embarrassing) exam of his own. "Isn't the first lesson that you learn in medical school is make all of those instruments as cold as possible."

"You're being silly, Nova. You know better. You know it's just the jelly that makes these things feel cold," said Doctor Sane. "Now put your arms up and relax."

"Come on," said Nova's friend Lieutenant Natalie Fisher. She was assisting Sane today at the office.

Nova did so, taking a deep, aggravated breath as Doctor Sane scanned her abdomen and lower back yet again. As he did so, he went "Hmm, hmm, hmm," over a video screen.

"What are you seeing in there, Doc?" said Derek.

"This is interesting," he said as he peered at the screen through his little round glasses. "_Very_ interesting…"

"What's in there, Doctor?" snapped Nova. "Is there a neon sign inside my uterus that says '_Eat at Joe's_?'"

"Oh, aren't we _funny_ today?" laughed Fisher.

"You're being ridiculous, Nova," sniffed Sane.

"Well, the way you're mumbling, you two must be finding _something _interesting in there," she said.

"I'll discuss that with you two in my office in a few minutes," said Doctor Sane.

* * *

Time passed. About forty-five minutes later, Nova (now again fully dressed in the yellow backless sundress and backless sandals she had worn that day) sat with Derek in Doctor Sane's office as he said, "This is a rather interesting case." 

"Okay, what's interesting about it?" snapped Commodore Wildstar as he held Nova's hand as they sat together on a couch in front of Doctor Sane's desk. "I mean, we've been trying, and trying to have children, and…"

"Well," said Doctor Sane. "I've done the standard protocols for both of you; scans and physical examination of your reproductive tract, reproductive organs, sperm count, and prostate check for you, Commodore, and a Pap Smear, physical exam, and reproductive tract and ultrasound scans of your organs for you, Nova. What I find interesting about this is that both of you are in excellent physical condition, and everything is there inside both of you, and everything is working properly. And the blood tests show me you two are clean of the birth control drugs now."

"So there's no good physical reason that I'm not getting pregnant?" said Nova.

"No physical reason," said Sane. "Now, at the rate you two have been, shall we say, _trying_ to become parents, I would normally have expected you, Nova, to be carrying already. Of course, I know you're not. So, leaving out any physical reasons, I have to conclude that it's all in your heads."

"All in our _heads_?" said Derek.

"That's crazy," muttered Nova. "You're saying it's…?"

"Psychological," said Doctor Sane. "Sometimes, I have seen that when couples put pressure on themselves to have children, the blessed event doesn't happen, maybe because of that pressure. It's like a baseball player trying too hard at home plate to get a hit. When a player tries that hard, they'll often end up in a slump. But, when the player relaxes, they can bat .350 or .400 and break that slump."

"So, you're advising us to..?" said Nova.

"Just take some time, take a deep breath, have some fun, and relax when you do the deed, maybe try a new position or two. I know you two well enough to know there is no problem with your technique, shall we say. Don't get desperate, and don't think so much about getting pregnant. You do that, I'll bet you a hundred credits that I'll be seeing the newest Wildstar in my scanners in a few weeks or months. Okay?"

"Well, that's not quite what we expected," said Derek. "But…"

Nova took a nice deep breath. "I think we can take a hint," she said. "The next time…uh…we try it…"

"Good luck," said Doctor Sane.

"Yeah, good luck," said Natalie as she popped her head in. "I'm sure that you'll need maternity clothes pretty damn soon, Nova."

"Yeah," she said with a blush as she picked up the woven white leather bag that matched her shoes.

* * *

**II. YET MORE TRAINING…**

**Earth**

**The Great Megalopolis**

**The Space Fighters' Training School**

**Thursday, September 26, 2205**

**1430 Hours: Earth Time**

**

* * *

**

High over the EDF Academy, Deke Wakefield flew towards an "unfriendly" target in a Cosmo Tiger II. Both planes were in the ground-based maroon and gold colors, but Deke's was more visible because it had a black and gold thunderbolt pattern painted on its body and rear vertical stabilizers. The other plane had skull-and-crossbones markings.

"Okay," said Deke. "Going through the checklist again, sir. Missiles _Check_."

"Missiles Check," said a voice in his headset in a deep Georgia accent from the back seat of his fighter; Commander Jefferson Hardy himself was flying with Deke today as his instructor.

"Heads-up Display, Check," said Wakefield.

"HUD Check," repeated Hardy. "Remember. When you're _really_ flyin', this has to be second nature, Wakefield."

"Yessir," said Deke. "Forward Guns, _Check_. Wing Cannon, _Check_."

"You've got it," said Hardy as he made sure that the light dummy missiles were ready and that all weapons were on practice intensity. "You should have that bogie on your scope now…"

"Check," grinned Deke grimly. "Brew," he said wickedly. "I'm gonna _roast_ your six."

* * *

In the meantime, in his plane, Jere "Brew" Marrable had just gone through a similar checklist in a Tiger II astrofighter with Bryan Hartcliffe as the instructor in his back seat. 

"Now, _remember_, mate," said Hartcliffe. "You're a veteran. You're hungry, man. You want this guy's _butt_!"

"Roger that," said Brew. "Sticks, you're gonna pay for every time you've ever bugged me about Dawn," said Marrable as he grinned wickedly. "Head-on, huh?"

Brew had to pull up like crazy when practice-intensity laser fire skipped all around him.

"Coming like a bull, huh, Wakefield?"

In his plane, Hardy banged at the back of Wakefield's seat. "You've got him stunned! Now get on his six, Wakefield!"

"Roger that," said Deke as he swung up and around Brew's plane, grinning as he began to track him from behind at high speed.

* * *

Down below, on the ground, other midshipmen looked up in awe and applauded as the loud sound of the astrofighters' jets reverberated over the distant reaches of the campus. 

"Look at them, Petroksky!" laughed a female Midshipman named Ruth Brunner. "Those flyboys are _nuts_!"

Midshipman Sasha "Petrovsky" smiled as she looked up at the two knights of the air in their sleek fighters. "I wonder who that guy in the plane with the thunderbolt on it is?" she said. "He's really good!"

"Thought you didn't like guys that much," said Ruth.

"Not quite to date, but pilots are neat," said Sasha.

"How do _you_ know?" said Ruth. "Fighter jocks are a stuck-up, arrogant bunch of…"

Sasha almost blurted out. _No, my Uncle's a great pilot and a cool guy, too…_ before she bit her tongue. She had two good reasons.

First, no one was supposed to know that she was half-Iscandarian and that Commodore Wildstar was her uncle.

Second, it wouldn't be a good idea to be thinking about the slight crush she had on her uncle when she was about to meet her aunt (and her uncle's wife!) in a class on Radar Ops in just a few minutes.

_Part of me wishes I could end up with a pilot_, Sasha thought. _Part of me wonders if it's worth the bother._

Sasha looked up at the "dog fighting" fighters for a moment later before she said, "C'mon Ruth…let's get to class."

"Okay, Sasha…"

* * *

In class, a while later, Sasha sat writing various formulae in her notebook as, down in the lower part of the small lecture amphitheatre, Nova Wildstar, in a red-and-white Academy professor's blouse, skirt, and pumps, stood writing more problems on the blackboard. 

"Okay," said Nova as she stopped writing and then turned to face her class of second-year and third-year Midshipmen; depending upon scheduling vagarities, cadets would take the Radar Operations I Course at different points in their academic career. "This is the underlying math for a basic Extended Gaussian Model Adaptive Processing or EG-MAP clutter filter matrix. Who can tell me why it's important to have a clutter filter matrix on raw data? Ah, Mister Caruthers?" said Nova as she pointed at a third-year cadet in blue and white who had his hand up.

"Ma'am, it's easy; the clutter filter clears out extraneous data from the matrix of received information."

"True," said Lieutenant Commander Wildstar. "But, why is it important that extraneous data is separated out from the matrix as soon as possible?"

"Bandwidth, ma'am," said Caruthers as he began to sweat. He hadn't read the assignment for today.

"You're closer, but why is extraneous data bandwidth a problem? Why do we need this complex equation taking up milliseconds of processing time at the start of each scan?" said Nova as she scanned the room; a few hands were up. She noticed Sasha in her yellow-and-white uniform and said, "Miss Petrovsky?"

"Damn teacher's pet," muttered Caruthers in a whisper to his seatmate as Sasha said, "Ma'am, we need that data separated out so that it doesn't overwhelm the computer at the beginning of each processing cycle of the first-stage unit."

"Correct," said Nova. "Do we mean the ship's or installation's main computer, or the sub-processor in the radar desk?"

"Actually, we mean the cooled and driven sub-processor hooked right to the aerial array, ma'am," said Sasha.

"Not bad," said Nova as she began to draw a flowchart. "Data goes here, through the aerial array sub-processor first, to take care of the basic processing steps. Then, it passes through the main computer and then is uploaded to the desk sub-processor for final display on the screen before you. That takes just a few processing bursts, and…"

There was a good-sized sonic boom outside, and a roar as Deke and Brew flew past the building. A window in the classroom cracked slightly with a loud _clink_ as it took the air blast from the nearby sonic boom and the classroom shook.

"Hold on!" snapped Nova as she ran over to the window while the class began to buzz. "Silence!" she snapped. She felt the window. _Good,_ she thought. _This one's just cracked; not broken like the other day. I've gotta talk to those guys again about getting their students too close to the quad._

The phone at the front of the classroom on the desk began to go off; Nova recognized the incoming number at once as being from another lecture hall up on the third floor. "Hi, Derek," she said softly. "No broken windows down here on this deck-just cracked. Did they break a window up there in your Basic Combat Tactics class? Yeah…we've gotta talk to those Flight professors…no, we're not filing complaints…yet…Maintenance will probably do that. Yes," she said as she sat on her desk jiggling her foot nervously; one of her pumps fell off. "Oh…darn" she whispered. "Lost my shoe again; if it stays hot, I'm gonna have to wear something that buckles on tomorrow. Stop laughing, sir," whispered Nova in an annoyed voice.

"She cracks me up," muttered Caruthers as he began drawing a sketch of his professor in a notebook.

"I don't know who's worse," muttered his seatmate, who was named Perkins. "Her or the flying sophomore computer down there in row two."

"Yeah, she's cute," said Perkins.

"Who?" said Caruthers. "The old lady or Miss Petrovsky?"

"Both of 'em," said Perkins. "You think they're related?"

"Why do ya say that?" muttered Caruthers.

"The eyes," said Perkins. "Both of them have those long eyelashes."

"I'm asking Petrovsky out," said Caruthers as Sasha played with her long hair for a moment. _That's it_, she thought. _I'm putting this in a ponytail next week; it's going all over the place!_

"Good luck," said Perkins.

"Why?"

"I hear that Sasha doesn't date," whispered Perkins right as Wildstar finished up with her phone call and slipped her shoe back on.

"Scuttlebutt?"

Nova then turned back to her class. "I have been reminded," she said. "That next class session, we're meeting in Richardson Hall Five next Tuesday with some other classes. The reason why is that there's going to be a joint presentation by myself, Professor Sandor, and Commodore Wildstar about some recent actions we experienced in the field over the summer. Yes, I fought in a battle," she said as the classroom buzzed. "And that's why this material is _important_," she snapped. "If you are in battle and your radar goes down, you're blind. Knowing why the radar goes dead and having some idea of what to do to fix it can save your life in combat aboard a vessel. This is no game, people. Owing to the fact that we are not meeting again until next Thursday, I have to assign more in the book. Thus, we're doing two lessons; pages 180-225, and then pages 230-249. To make sure we know what we're talking about, there is the possibility I'll give an evaluation at that time. Do we have any further questions before I return back to our material?"

* * *

"Not bad," said Jefferson Hardy a few minutes later as Deke came in for a landing; he had beaten Brew in their simulated dogfight. "Pretty good grasp of basic combat. Did you get to fly recon duhin' the summer? You're _sharp_!" 

"Yessir, I flew some recon during my time on the _Rio Grande_," said Wakefield, who didn't want to get into the details of the real battle he had flown against the Josiahites during the summer.

"Keep this up, and you'll be in great shape for your final ops cruise," he said with a grin. "Of course, you know that a space battleship's a lot harder to land on than a landin' strip, and it's not like getting picked up by a cruiser, either."

"I know, sir," said Wakefield. "You have that arresting field to contend with," he said as they began to taxi towards a ramp after clearing the runway at the Academy airbase at the very edge of the sprawling campus.

"Yessuh," said Hardy to someone on the other end of the line as he put up his hand to stop Wakefield from talking. "Yessuh. I know we cracked some windows on campus."

"I messed up, huh?" said Wakefield.

"Shoot, you can't make an omelet without breakin' some eggs," said Hardy. "Likewise, you can't fight an enemy half the time worryin' about sonic booms. I'll clear it; I always manage to…"

"Gotcha," said Wakefield with a thumbs-up.

"Oh, yeah," said Hardy. "Don't be here Tuesday. Be at Richardson Five."

"Why's that?"

"Big pow-wow next week with Commodore Wildstar and some other people. Seems we had a little action back in the summer, and they want all of yew to hear about it."

"Shit, I'd rather be flying," said Wakefield.

"Yeah, you and me both," said Hardy. "You and me both. Hey."

"Yes?"

"Got a girlfriend?" said Hardy.

Deke stood in silence. "Not for a while, sir. Been…busy with my studies."

"I see," said Hardy. "Well, the Fleet didn't issue you a girlfriend, so I guess it's best you keep yoah mind in that fighter and not on those skirts for a bit. This is gonna be a tough semester for yuh. Got it?"

"Yessir," said Deke with a slight smile.

_I wonder,_ Deke thought as a wave of melancholy hit him again. _I_ _wonder what Dawn is up to at Pan-Am University?_ _Hope she's keeping her nose in the books…and why isn't she answering my letters? I thought when we broke up we were at least friends…_

* * *

After Nova's class was over, the midshipmen filed out, gathering in the corridor as a group of other Midshipmen came in to meet with Nova for her next class, on Basic Xenobiology. 

The next group was a group of plebes, and one of them, Midshipman Decker, was terrified of meeting Midshipman Caruthers again, remembering the special harassment that Caruthers had given him the other day.

His worst fears were realized when, while stumbling around, he ran right into Caruthers.

"What the hell?" muttered Caruthers as he felt someone running into him. Then, he noticed green and white and snapped, "_Plebe!_ Shit, I've just been rammed into by a skuzzy, dirty, smelly Plebe!"

"Ask him what his excuse is," sneered Caruthers' partner in crime Perkins.

"I recognize you, _shithead_!" yelled Caruthers. "Pop off, Midshipman Decker! What is your excuse?"

"Sir, no excuse, SIR!" snapped Decker as he came to attention.

Some others stood to watch this barbaric game as Sasha "Petrovsky" overheard and immediately began to become disgusted by this harassment.

"I'd have you do pushups now," said Caruthers. "Except that I can't do them in the hall! So give me some plebe knowledge!" he yelled, about to make Decker recite some of the many things that first-year cadets were required to memorize and spout off letter-perfect to upperclassmen. "What is the Motto of the Defense Forces?"

"Peace, Freedom, and Strength, SIR!" barked Decker.

"How's the cow?" sneered Caruthers.

"Sir, she walks, she talks, she's full of chalk, the lacteal secretions of the female of the bovine species are prolific to the _nth_ degree, SIR!"

"Name the current amount of capital ships in the active Fleet, by number and vessel type!" snapped Perkins.

"Sir! There are currently forty-five commissioned space battleships, ten commissioned spacecraft carriers, ten fleet cruisers, and eighty-three patrol cruisers in the Fleet for a total of one hundred and forty-eight capital ships of the Line in the Earth Defense Forces, SIR!"

"Wrong," snapped Caruthers.

"Sir?"

"Two of those space battleships and one of those carriers are currently in refit at this time and they are _inactive_," snapped Caruthers. "You piece of crap! You should know that! Now give me the Chain of Command, starting from the Federation President…"

"Sir," said Sasha as she spoke up.

"What?" snapped Caruthers.

"You're going to make him late for _class_!" cried Sasha. "Remember, the ninety-second rule! They're all in there already with a minute before class! And don't you guys have someplace to go?"

"Listen, _second-classman_," snapped Perkins. "You didn't sign your contract yet, so you have no idea of our duties with this cadet! Get going before I start asking _you_ stuff!"

"Harrison Perkins," snapped back Sasha. "When you recognized me last June, you told me that this would be the end of my being treated like a plebe."

Suddenly, the classroom door opened, and Nova came out. She immediately spotted Decker, who had been late before for her class and earned two hours' worth of punishment as a result. "Mister Decker," she said. "You have thirty seconds to get in here or I'm going to have to write you another late slip."

"Ma'am, I'm sorry, ma'am!" he snapped.

Nova's eyes ran over Caruthers, Perkins, and "Petrovsky" and she said, "Were the three of you holding up this plebe? You know the rules!"

"We was having some fun, that's all," lied Caruthers.

"Yeah, ma'am, we weren't planning to hold this little guy up," said Perkins. "Just lost…track of time, ma'am."

_That first guy was lying_, thought Nova quickly. _But, that other guy…maybe they just didn't know what time it was. These are stupid kids, so I guess they didn't flat-out lie, so I don't think I can Honor Chit them for this. But, I can't let this go. Not now._

"What about you, Petrovsky?" snapped Nova. "Racking scared plebes doesn't seem like your style, Miss."

"_They_ were doing it, ma'am, " said Sasha. "I wasn't. I just happened to overhear them, ma'am. I was just…sort of stuck here. In fact, I was trying to stop it!"

"I see. Not bad. You know, you two," said Nova. "The requirements of the plebe system prohibit you from keeping even a first-year underclassman from attending his required classes. Therefore, you two are to let Mister Decker enter his class at once; consider it a direct order!"

"Aye, aye, ma'am," said Perkins and Caruthers together.

Nova took a pad from out of her skirt pocket and began to write furiously. "Six hours of punishment tours each, _both_ of you," snapped Nova as she handed Perkins and Caruthers punishment slips. "The offense is delaying an underclassman from attending a required class. Mister Decker, you are to see me after class in my office at sixteen-thirty. You too, Miss Petrovsky."

Sasha looked startled at this. "Yes, ma'am," said Sasha.

"Now post out of here, gentlemen," snapped Nova.

"Ma'am, we get a warning," said Caruthers.

Lieutenant Commander Wildstar glared at Caruthers and said, "_I warned you about this at the beginning of the semester, Mister! And you can't go and cover up your stupidity and abuse of the system any longer, Midshipman! Now go to your tactical officer and set up arrangements to march off your time! You are to begin tonight_!"

"Aye, _aye_, ma'am," snapped Caruthers as he came to attention. Then, he saluted. Nova returned the salute and said, "Mister Decker, get in there. I don't want to have to write you up, too."

"Aye, aye, ma'am!" he screamed. Then, he about-faced and ran into the classroom.

Nova shook her head in disgust and slammed the door of her classroom as she prepared to teach her Biology section.

"She looks pissed off," said Perkins.

"She _should_ be," said Sasha. "You two guys know the regs by now about those poor plebes. They're fair game up until ninety seconds before class. Then you have to let them enter their class. And you can't cover up with excuses, either. That'll lead to even worse things for you! They don't tolerate these games around here, Caruthers! This isn't your Junior Space Cadet Corps unit at your school, my friend! This is the real military! Do you wanna go up for an honor violation for lying to an officer? You're just lucky that Wildstar was in a rush and she didn't write you up a green Honor chit, too! You keep this up and they'll catch you in something! Straighten up and fly right!"

"What?" said Caruthers. "Timing me with a stopwatch, Sasha?"

"Oh, we're on a first-name basis now?" said Sasha in an amused tone of voice. "Why?"

"Would you like to go out with me to get some ice cream on the weekend?" said Caruthers as he bowed.

"You?" giggled Sasha. "I wouldn't go out with you if you were the last man on Earth. Good _day_, gentlemen."

Sasha walked off with her nose up in the air.

"_Good day, gentlemen_," mocked Perkins as soon as Sasha was out of earshot.

"Yeah," sneered Caruthers. "Looks like she's trying to imitate the famous Lieutenant Commander Wildstar herself. Damn little blonde science geek. She probably sleeps with her computer like our Prof does."

Perkins snickered at that.

* * *

In San Diego, California, it was eight hours ahead, which meant it was close to midnight at Pan-Am University. 

Dawn Westland sat in an upscale coffeehouse club in a nice, conservative blouse, mid-calf length skirt with a matching vest and dressy open-toe pumps (it was a warm night) with a young man she had decided to consent to a first date with.

"So, you're in the Nursing program," said the young man, who was named Peter Hunt, a fellow with red hair, freckles, and glasses. He had a rather cute, boyish face, Dawn thought.

"That's right," said Dawn with a smile as she stirred her coffee.

"You know, you look like you're going for a job interview," chuckled Peter.

"You don't like my outfit?" said Dawn as she tossed some of her bleached blonde bangs out of her eyes.

"No, it's not that at all…you just…"

"Don't dress like the other girls," said Dawn with a smile. "Right?"

"Yeah, you're…different."

"I have a reputation to uphold," said Dawn as she thought. _And I have another reputation to kill. I remember the way I was those first semesters…dressed like…that…when I knew that guy Stovall…after…after…him _she thought as her eyes lit upon a girl in a barely-there halter top. _That me is dead and in the grave. Just like the person I was in high school. _

"You too," she said as she studied Peter. He was in black slacks, a white shirt, tie, and a lab coat. "Pre-med, I take it?"

"Yeah," said Peter. "What do you think of that Blavatsky's Advanced Biochemistry class?"

"Piece of cake," said Dawn with a smile. "Preparing any med school applications yet?"

"No, have to do my world service first," said Peter. "I'm seeing the EDF Recruiter tomorrow. He says that I can go in as a Survey Officer, Life Sciences Officer, or Pharmacist's Mate, and that with my grades, I'm a good shot to be able to get into Central Medical School after I do my initial MOS training and serve a year. Where are you doing your service?"

"World Health Organization Uniformed Corps," said Dawn. "I've just signed up. Listen, why don't you tell that EDF recruiter to take a hike? WHO needs good people, and you could probably get into med school faster that way, provided you have the cumulative grade point average. I'm afraid I don't."

"Why not? You're bright. You could be a ship's surgeon someday."

"Like, I take it, you are hoping to be?"

"Uh-huh. Why not? Why not stand up there in formation with me at the end of the year in a blue uniform getting sworn in? EDF's a great career, you know."

"I partied too much my first year, had bad grades, and got thrown out of Sigma Alpha Gamma as a result. But that was then. This is now. Mind getting us some more _lattes_?"

"Okay," said Peter with a mock salute. "Be back in a minute, _milady_."

Dawn's lip curled down as she looked at his receding back. _He's not Mister Right, and I can tell at once,_ she thought. _Well, that'll be another first date chocked off. Wonder what Mom sent me in the mail?_

With Bach's _Canon in D_ playing in the background (as a piano solo), Dawn took a letter out of her purse. It was from her mother Lynn, whom lived here in San Diego. Dawn opened the letter from her mother Lynn and began to read, sighing as another envelope fell out onto her lap.

She read the following:

Dawn, Dearest:

How are you? You haven't written or called since the beginning of the month? I hope you're okay. I hope that you're not doing anything that would make your Father ashamed of you again…

_I'm fine, Mom,_ thought Dawn. _I've just been busy, school and all…you worry too much._

Dawn skipped down several lines in the letter after reading some general pleasantries to read,

Everyone in the old neighborhood is just fine. I've been thinking, Dawn, what a tragedy it is for you to throw away old friends…

_Not this again,_ thought Dawn with some measure of irritation. _I already know where this is going, Mom. I recognize his return address._

….aside from everything else, Dawn, I know and you know you haven't hooked up with anyone there at Pan-Am even though I know you've been dating. I think you owe it to Deke to read this letter and answer it. I like him, too. I always have…

Dawn looked at the letter again, recognizing Deke's return address. Before Peter could come back, she tore the letter quietly in half without opening it.

_I'm sorry, Mom,_ thought Dawn. _Deke was the past. I can't go back there again. I'd need to find someone with even more charm and kindness than him to consider a second date, let alone getting married. And all Deke wanted was vengeance, vengeance, vengeance, even naming his gun after me and his mother…how freaky. I loved him, but sometimes, I have chills going down my back when I think of him, and…him and the EDF. If I were to date someone who was going to be an officer, let alone an officer, he'd have be a really great person, someone who could charm a mouse into jumping into a trap, and I don't know any guy in the military who is like that. Sorry, Mom. Sorry, Deke. Much as I think about you at times, Deke, you were the past. That was then…._

Dawn finished ripping up the letter from Deke and she wadded the pieces up into a ball. She thought, _Deke, and this is now. I'm sorry. Dating just doesn't do it with me right now, not you…not anyone…_ She decided she had to get out of here.

When Pete got back with the coffee, he found an empty chair, several credits on the table, and a short note that said, Sorry, Pete, I have to go. Don't call me. I'll call you. Dawn.

"Now, what the hell did I say that turned her off _so much_?" said Pete. He shrugged and said, "Oh, well, there's that blonde in Hagerman's class…"

Unknown to her, this would be the last date that Dawn Westland would be on until Friday, December 13, 2205.

Then, when that night rolled around, Dawn's life would begin to change, forever.

* * *

**III. MYSTERIES AND TALKS**

**Earth**

**The Great Megalopolis**

**The Space Fighters' Training School**

**Thursday, September 26, 2205**

**1630 Hours: Earth Time**

* * *

Time often creates funny coincidences. 

It just so happened that while Dawn was ripping up her latest letter in San Diego at midnight, Deke Wakefield was sitting in the Student Union at the Space Fighters' Training School going over his schedule. He had received an e-mail recently from another midshipman who was a friend of his. He was looking over the printout again. It stated, in part:

_Hey, Dekesticks…_

_I've got this friend who is really smart in most things but sort of hopeless with an AK-01, even though she says she's trying to improve her marksmanship. I've heard stories about you and DJ, so I bet you're great at marksmanship. Please meet us on the range at 1730 today before dinner and give my friend some pointers?_

_Thanks,_

_Trish_

In the meantime, the very Midshipman that Trish was referring to sat in a professor's office with her arm around a crying Fourth Classman named Decker as he said, "That's right, ma'am. Those guys….they're _always_ on my ass. I've been late to class three times in the past two weeks because they _wait_ for me in the passages and they love to _make_ me late with their plebe games."

Nova Wildstar sighed and said, "Mister Decker, do you have a hard time with your Company Commander?"

"No, ma'am," he sniffed. "Well, no worse than anyone else in our company or platoon, anyway. It's just those guys. It started in Beast Barracks, and it's been getting even worse. First week in Beast Barracks, they said they were going to run me out of here by Christmas!"

"Midshipman, I think you've learned enough to know by now that's a standard line," said Nova. "You don't want to know how many times I had people saying they were going to run _me_ out of the program during my first year's ROTC summer training at the University of Colorado. I had a hellish first semester myself after that."

"You're telling me it's all going to be like that?" sobbed Decker.

"Actually, right after holiday break, it begins to let up a little as these guys see you can do it and stick with the program. In other words, it gets better. It is not the end of the world. You're a smart young man, Mister Decker. I think you can adapt and make it right through here to be recognized by those guys in June. Then, they'll call you by your first name, and they'll forget everything. It's all like a big game."

"Actually, ma'am, they won't," said Sasha.

"Excuse me?" said Nova.

"Permission to speak candidly, ma'am," said Sasha as she stood in the office near the blue-striped partition in her gold second-year Midshipman's uniform facing Nova.

Nova nodded.

"I pointed out the ninety-second rule to those two, and they said they were going to treat me like a plebe again," said Sasha. "They also made some pretty sexist remarks. They knew what they were doing, I think. Playing games."

"Now I see," said Nova. "We might be able to get them on lying, or at least give them a good scare that'll teach them a lesson. Do you wish to file harassment charges against those two and add that they were probably evading about their answer to a superior officer? It can be before the Honor Committee by tomorrow if you like. It's a lot easier if another cadet initiates it, Miss Petrovsky. I have more channels to go through than you do on this, believe it or not."

"Ma'am, it doesn't go that far…not yet," said Sasha. "Least I don't think so. Maybe the punishment you gave them will give those jerks the hint."

"I see," said Nova. "Mister Decker," she said as he wiped away his tears. "Would _you_ like to swear before the Honor Committee? Those two are clearly covering something. That's probably lying under the Code, like I said to Miss Petrovsky. And it'd look better if you spoke up."

"No, ma'am!" he said.

Nova said, "The Code says that you can't lie, cheat, or steal, or tolerate those who do."

"I know! But, ma'am, I can't be a barracks lawyer! Not in my first month! Company commander hears about this, and he'll be racking my ass worse than _ever_!"

Nova shut her eyes and nodded. "It seems very difficult for you, Mister Decker. Have you thought about seeing the Chaplain about this?"

"I can't turn in an upperclassman," he snapped. "Scared."

"Seeing the Chaplain isn't turning anyone in," said Nova. "It's just talking…" she said as she thought, _Maybe the Chaplain can make him see reason. I'm not going to push him right now because he is so upset, but he really should find an honor rep and start talking about those guys. Or maybe I should. I know…I'll talk to a JAG about it. I'd have to, anyway, part of the procedure. He or she can tell me if we can make this stick or not._

"I can't flunk out of here, or get kicked out on demerits or resign," sobbed Decker. "Ma'am, if you turn in another chit on me, that'll put me on the first step towards Aptitude Probation, and…"

"I'm not writing a chit on you today for being late," said Nova. "Not as long as you make a bargain with me."

"What?"

"If those guys ever start harassing you like that again, you are to post around here and see me about it. Get up and look around that divider, Mister Decker. Behind my desk. Whose desk is that?"

"Ma'am, Commodore Derek Wildstar's desk! But…"

"I know. Scared to talk with a flag officer?"

"Ma'am, he's…"

"He's a nice person to talk to. You have an open door to my office, and if I'm not here, you have an open door to his office, too. If this garbage starts up again, you are to set up an appointment with the Chaplain and then see one of us about it. We'll get it taken care of."

"But, ma'am…the system…"

"Not even the plebe system allows upperclassmen to set you up repeatedly for offenses like that that will get you in trouble. Those midshipmen are abusing their authority, and the abuse of authority is something that makes me sick to my stomach, and also makes the Commodore sick to his stomach. Got that?"

"Yes, ma'am," said Decker. "I couldn't take it if I got thrown out of here," said Decker. "My parents couldn't tolerate it, either. Especially my father."

"I'm sure you can make it," said Sasha with a smile. "Buck up, Midshipman. I made it; so can you."

"Thanks, ma'am," said Decker.

"I'm not a ma'am," said Sasha as she stood up.

"Ma'am?" said Decker as he looked at her in wonder and Nova looked a little wide-eyed. Then, she began to pointedly look at a memo on her desk, deliberately ignoring the midshipmen for a minute. While she knew what was going on, she knew that as an officer, she couldn't accept this breach in Academy protocol, so she just decided to pretend nothing was going on.

"My name's Sasha," said Sasha as she extended her hand. "What's your name?"

"Jim," said Decker as he swallowed. "My name's Jim."

"Pleased to meet you, Jim," said Sasha with a smile as she shook hands with him and informally recognized him. "If those jerks give you a hard time, come see me, too. I know some good men and women here. Not all of us upperclassmen are assholes like those guys. Of course, you know I can't call you Jim out there. And don't call me Sasha with them listening or they'll make it harder for you. In fact, I may even be in trouble now for saying that."

"Saying what?" said Nova. "I didn't hear anything…mind's drifting a bit."

"Ma'am?" said Decker.

"I was just thinking about what I'm making the Commodore for dinner tonight," laughed Nova. "Or maybe we'll call out for pizza or something."

"Ma'am, I didn't know officers called out for pizza, _ma'am_!"

"We do," said Nova. "And _lighten up_ a bit! Okay?"

"Yes, ma'am."

Nova then sat up straight. "Okay, Mister. Dismissed."

Decker and "Petrovsky" saluted and turned to go. But, as Decker left, Nova got up and said, "Miss Petrovsky, I did not dismiss you yet. Stay there."

"Yes, ma'am," said Sasha with a poker face. She was expecting her aunt to rip her a new one for 'recognizing' Decker.

Decker left, and Nova shut the door to the office. Then, she turned to Sasha. "Miss…_Petrovsky_..." she said with an unusual emphasis. "What you did was against regulations. As an officer, I have to admonish you to be more careful and circumspect about violating the plebe system."

"Yes, ma'am," said Sasha with downcast eyes.

"Sasha," said Nova.

"Huh?"

"Stand up."

Sasha stood.

"As your _aunt_, I'm proud of you," said Nova as she hugged Sasha and gave her a quick kiss on the cheek. "Sometimes, as a human being, you have to bend the rules a bit to help your subordinates. Between you and I, you did the right thing with that scared plebe. Just be careful, and don't act like that in public, especially in front of a company commander or a tactical officer or, for that matter, most of the rest of the faculty. Although, granted, old Berinovsky would understand what you did," said Nova, who was referring to Commodore Nikolai Berinovsky, the gruff old Dean of Midshipmen for the past two years. While he was in charge of discipline, had been known to pull strings for deserving midshipmen and would sometimes do whatever he could to make sure a promising midshipman didn't get kicked out.

"Ma'am, the old man would understand?"

"He sure will," said Nova. "Especially after I get off the phone with him. We know it's about time we pulled in some favors."

"I see," said Sasha. "Uh…as long as we're not being formal…Aunt Nova?"

"Yes?"

"I have to go soon. I have to get into fatigues and go see this guy at the rifle range. I've got to get my marksmanship scores up."

"Okay," said Nova. "Do me a favor."

"Yes?"

"Watch that Decker kid. I think he's about to crack. I know all the signs."

"I'll do my best," said Sasha. "Ma'am," she added as she saluted.

Nova smiled and returned the salute. "Dismissed, Miss Petrovsky."

"Thank you, ma'am," said Sasha. She promptly left.

* * *

Later, Nova sat down for coffee with a JAG officer named Commander Shizuko Matsuhira. 

Matsuhira said, "Interesting story, but it's kind of close. But thanks for coming in anyway. I think you advised the cadets to do the right thing by getting them to consider speaking to their honor representative, Wildstar."

"So, you don't think I have grounds to go up before them _myself_?" said Nova.

"The Honor Code is supposed to be the Midshipmen's department. I've done a few of these; they make officers presenting cases before them sit down with a JAG for advice and consent like we're doing now and then a subcommittee first because they want to make sure the charges are going to be 100 ironclad when an officer presents it. Call it professional courtesy and deferring to higher rank, as it were. They don't want some officer up there proffering charges that are flimsy. Looks too much like command influence on the Honor System, particularly when a professor is up there doing it. There have been cases where some professors, not you, but some in the past, have used this little mechanism to bounce cadets they didn't like through a side door. That's the job of the honor people, tactical officers, and the Dean of Students and Commandant. I'd say that you should get them to speak to an Honor Rep about it. Even if those guys are called before a subcommittee for consideration of a case, if a student offers what they think is a violation in good faith and it is turned down, it doesn't look so bad for them. That is why I am denying your Advice and Consent for Requesting Mast as an Instructor before the Honor Subcommittee. Of course, we need to note this. You know, the paper trail," said Matsuhira as he handed Nova a computerized padd.

Nova signed off after Matsuhira, and then she said, "Thanks for listening."

"You're welcome. Between you and me, just watch those guys. Idiots like that are going to try something again. And if they tell a really bald-faced lie to you or another officer, and those other two midshipmen don't go into that walnut-paneled room to see the Honor people first, I think that I'll probably see this case again, Lieutenant Commander."

"Yeah, I was afraid of that, sir," said Lieutenant Commander Wildstar.

"Hey, you did your duty. Have a nice weekend."

"Thanks a lot," said Nova as she saluted and left.

* * *

It took a considerable amount of bravery on Decker's part, but he went to the Honor Committee offices in Frankfurter Hall a while later. He was now sitting down with two senior Honor Reps, a young woman named Naomi Clements and a young man named Kyle Lindenmuth. The near-empty simulated walnut-paneled subcommittee hearing room with its sky-blue carpeting looked very intimidating to Decker as he sat in a room alone with these two rather grim seniors telling the story of what had happened earlier. 

"So, let's get this straight," said Clements as she ran a hand through her hair while the lights above gleamed off her mahogany-colored skin. "You're saying that Mister Caruthers is guilty of lying because in response to Commander Wildstar's question, namely, "Were the three of you holding up this plebe? You know the rules!"

Mister Caruthers said, "We was having some fun, that's all."

"Yes, ma'am," said Decker.

"And then, what did Mister Perkins say?" said Lindenmuth in his most lawyerly tones. Lindenmuth had just received an early acceptance to Federal University Law School early that day, and he was flush with his authority, knowing that his time on the honor board had helped get him accepted to the planet's top law school.

"He said," gulped Decker. "He said, '_Yeah, ma'am, we weren't planning to hold this little guy up…Just lost…track of time, ma'am._'"

"I see," said Lindenmuth. "Would you excuse me for a minute?" he said as the light gleamed off his blonde hair. He looked like some kind of cadet god in there to Decker, who felt like a grungy little plebe in his wrinkled uniform. He was surprised that these two midshipmen weren't ranking him for his appearance, not knowing that military bearing didn't count for much in this building on campus. Lindenmuth got up from his chair at what was normally a prosecutors' table in the small courtroom to lean against the bench and huddle with Clements out of Decker's hearing.

"Not an intentional lie," said Clements. "They didn't deny what they were doing, Kyle. They…you know…CYA…"

"Yeah. Think we should be sitting up here in these five seats doing this one next week?" said Lindenmuth as he looked up at the five-seat Subcommittee bench used for preliminary Honor Code hearings.

"Not enough evidence. We'll open a file, but we need a witness."

"We could subpoena Wildstar," said Lindenmuth.

"You know professors don't like that sort of thing," said Clements. "And this is a tight one."

"File 13 him, then?"

Clements nodded. "Get him out of here. Keep a case file open for fourteen days."

Lindenmuth nodded.

* * *

A while later, Decker was walking to his dorm with his head down after having been refused and then calmly lectured to by Lindenmuth and Clements about while they were glad that he brought the case, that they could take no immediate action unless someone corroborated what he had said. 

Going into his room, he found a blue chit sitting on his desk. It read:

**QUARTERS INSPECTION ADVICE**

On 26 September 2205

Midshipman Fourth Class Decker, James

Was cited for the following Inspection Irregularities.

**Dusty Counter in quarters.**

**Books in disarray.**

**Improperly made Bunk.**

For these irregularities, Midshipman Decker is assigned Four (4) Hours of Punishment Tours on the Central Quad under arms.

Commencing 1900 Hours this evening.

NOTE: You have Accumulated Twenty-Four (24) Demerits this month alone for various offenses.

This is to advise you that you may be called before the Dean of Students at any time for a Warning since you are less than five (5) demerits away from the twenty-eight (28) Demerits that can be accumulated for one quarter to retain a seventy (70) or above in Military Deportment, and Command may soon be required to place you on Military Aptitude Probation. YOU HAVE ACCUMULATED THESE DEMERITS IN THE FIRST MONTH OF FORMAL CLASSES. THIS IS UNACCEPTABLE, CADET! YOUR MILITARY ATTITUDE IS A DISGRACE TO THIS COMPANY, MISTER! START ACCUMULATING SOME MERITS TO OFFSET THIS!

Signed,

**GK**

Lieutenant George King, Tactical Officer, Company D.

Decker did the only thing he could when he saw the chit.

He put his head down on his desk and began to cry.

* * *

In the meantime, Deke Wakefield had arrived on the rifle range in his green fatigues. 

His friend Trish escorted him to the firing line where he found a young woman sitting there adjusting her rifle. Her hair was tucked up inside her fatigue cap, and her eyes were partly hidden behind firing range goggles; he couldn't quite tell what color they were. However, Deke thought she had an adorable face and winning smile. He vaguely wondered what color her hair was; he couldn't see much of it.

"Hi," she said with a little smile as Deke introduced himself. "I'm Midshipman Third Class Sasha Petrovsky".

"Well, Miss Petrovsky," he said softly, wondering what her build looked like inside the baggy fatigues. "The first thing we have to learn here is to be sure you're caressing the trigger, not squeezing it real hard."

"Yes," said Sasha. "I have a relative in the Defense Forces; he keeps on telling me the same thing. Can you show me how you do it?"

"Well," said Deke as he took her hands; which were hidden under thin riflemen's gloves, "this is how you should place your hands…"

* * *

About an hour passed. Deke noticed that with someone guiding her, Midshipman Petrovsky's shooting scores were beginning to increase dramatically. However, he wondered where she got a certain odd firing habit from; right before firing, her body and arms would sometimes twitch almost imperceptibly, as if she was spotting in on something that couldn't be seen by anyone else. He noticed that after she sometimes did this, and then took and held a deep breath to improve her sight picture, she was almost always right on target. _If she learns to become more consistent_, he thought, _then she'll be hitting Expert after about one or two more sessions._

However, for Sasha, strange things sometimes came to mind when Deke touched her; precognitive visions of _something_; being with Deke on a beach, sometime in the future. She wasn't sure in her head where the beach was; was it on Iscandar, or was it on Earth? Sasha didn't know for sure what it was.

Also, whenever she got one of these visions, a strange chill went through Deke. He didn't know what it was, or why, but even though he barely knew this girl, he occasionally felt strange, strong protective feelings that hit him hard and then faded away like phantoms.

_I don't know what this is, or what is going on,_ thought Deke. It's odd. _Maybe I'm going crazy. I have no idea what is happening, but something is telling me to come back next week; she'll need more lessons, and something is telling me to run like hell. What it is…I have no idea. _

Finally, as if he was in a dream, Deke agreed to come by again next week, on the afternoon of October the third, to teach Sasha yet again. She gave him an amicable goodbye and he left.

As Deke was walking back to his billet, another thought hit him.

_Now, this is really weird,_ he thought. _I don't know why, but when I was close to that girl…I wasn't thinking about Dawn at all. That in itself is strange; I want to get back with Dawn; I want to meet with Dawn…we have to talk. But, around this Staci, Sava…what's her name, oh…Sasha…that's it…I…what…feel like I've known her since the day I was born? Now that's a weird concept. I've grown up with Dawn. Yet I just met this girl today. And I don't even know if she's stocky, thin, what color her eyes are, what color her hair is, nothing. I don't know if I'm attracted to her…or why…it's more like…I'm being pulled toward her. But what? And how? _

Deke, indeed, was beginning to experience something unique, and so was Sasha.

Sasha's unique… ancestry had created a very interesting mix of genes and psionic abilities. Some abilities that were normal to Iscandarians were muted in Sasha, while other abilities that were almost long-lost in her race were again dominant.

Deke Wakefield didn't know it yet, but he would be in for a very interesting roller-coaster ride over the next few months and, possibly, the next few years.

* * *

Later that evening, at the Wildstar residence, as the sun began to set, Nova sat outside in the yard with Derek watching the sun going down.

"What a beautiful sunset," she said as she reached into a pizza box for yet another slice.

"Yeah," said Derek, who had changed out of his uniform into a white pullover, blue shorts, and brown loafers. "We haven't seen them like that for a while."

"It's because it's getting towards fall," said Nova as she ate her pizza. She wore a white top of her own, against which the sun shone pink, and she also wore tan cropped slacks and brown clogs. "The sky always seems to look different around Indian summer."

"Nova, is something bothering you?"

"Yes, Derek," she replied after a long pause.

"Is it me?"

"No. Remember that plebe we saw being harassed the other day when we were at the Academy one evening?"

"Yeah?"

"That Caruthers guy is doing it again, and I don't have a good feeling about it," said Nova. Nova then went into a brief explanation of everything that had happened both inside and then outside her Radar and Xenobiology classes earlier that day, along with her visit to the JAG Office in Frankfurter Hall. "What do you think?" asked Nova when she was done with the story.

"I don't believe that guy turned you _down _like that," said Derek. "It sounds like the Honor Board should at least look into this. They should at least do an investigation and put the fear of authority into that damn cadet, if nothing else."

Nova nodded. "I agree with you. But, as I'm finding out, they don't do things at the Space Fighters' Training School the same way they do them in _our_ outfit."

Derek grinned. "The Star Force, I take it."

"Uh-huh. Sure, the EDF has a lot of…_paperwork_," said Nova as she got up and kicked off her clogs. She got Derek to get up, and he figured out why she had removed her shoes when she began to walk him towards a seawall at the edge of their yard that overlooked their small bay beach. He knew that Nova liked to sit there and kick the sand around with her toes when she was thinking about something. "But the paperwork here…," said Nova as she dangled her legs off the seawall, dug her feet into the sand and kicked some sand up quite a distance. "The stuff here is paperwork on top of paperwork. Procedure on top of procedure. I thought I'd look forward to teaching cadets, and I do…but so much of the Academy is filled with…bureaucratic _BS_."

"Congratulations," said Derek. "As an outsider, you found out one thing they teach at the space school; _Thou Shalt Learn to deal With Chits_."

"We had chits in ROTC, Derek. But, here, everything seems ruled by paperwork; to the point where you exclude plain old common sense."

"Another astute observation," said Derek as he picked up a pebble and threw it towards the Bay. The setting sun was now reflecting off the water, and it looked gorgeous. Then, he said, "Changing the subject…."

"Yes, I'd like to try again today," said Nova. "Operation Stork."

"You have that holo-video series you like on tonight."

"I can skip it for a week," said Nova. "You don't get sunsets like that every day."

"Yeah, that's a point," said Derek. He smiled at her and said, "Let's go in the house and open the blinds."

Nova impishly got up. "Who said anything about the house?"

"Nova?"

"We _do_ have a backyard, or we can do it here on the beach…" she said with a playful grin. "What do you say?"

Derek stood and scooped his young wife up off the ground, laughing as she squealed like a schoolgirl. "Sounds like a plan," he said. He gave her a long kiss and said, "Let's go…"

Nova smiled at him as she was swept off towards the beach; then she began to laugh as he sat down on the sand and Derek began to playfully undress her, laying her clothes out on the sand so she'd have something to lie on.

When Derek stripped, he came eagerly to his wife's waiting arms. It felt so nice to be with her like this in the warm sunset…

* * *

**IV. A SERIOUS MEETING…**

**Earth**

**The Great Megalopolis**

**Earth Defense Headquarters**

**The Chambers of the Earth Defense Council**

**Friday, September 27, 2205**

**1000 Hours: Earth Time**

**

* * *

**

Commanding General Hiram Singleton looked out at the recently reconstituted Earth Defense Council, which now comprised seventeen members since a recent Act of Parliament had added the Surgeon General, who was also the Minister of Health, Education, and Welfare, and the Minister of Solar System Energy Transmission to the Council as full members. The Council now consisted of sixteen members, with Singleton present as presiding officer and tie-breaker if needed.

President James R. Mendellsohn, who would be up for re-election next year, had just yielded to public pressure in regards to the nagging and continuing Cometine threat and he had just recently ordered Prime Minister Dixon Gelder (who had recently taken office after new emergency elections) to form a new Government. Gelder had, therefore, just shifted around the Defense Council, and he was present to oversee this first meeting of his new Council with the President. General Singleton was still the Commanding General of the Earth Defense Forces, and General Stone was still his Chief of Staff, but a Doctor Harold Mattingly had just been chosen as head of the Xeno-Cultural Bureau; he was the fourth person to have held this post since Piper Sandberg had defected to the enemy back in 2202.

Doctor Mattingly nodded towards the other two alien Ambassadors who were present to hear the report of the newly styled Countess Inge Gernan, the recently chosen Gamilon-Garuman Captain that Desslok had appointed as his new Ambassador as Gernan cleared her throat and said, "To sum it up, they tried to assassinate Desslok. After I was cleared, I aided in the suppression of the rebellion on Ashura, and Leader Desslok decided to appoint me as the new envoy and Ambassador to your world. It is a world which is, I must inform you, in grave peril."

"What does this mean for the Rikashan Federation?" asked Baron Hagil Cha'rif. The young Baron was a nephew of the Lord Cha'rif himself, and the young warrior had considered it a great honor to be named the envoy to Earth.

"Desslok has learned that R'Khell is also involved; they have signed a treaty with Princess Invidia herself," said Gernan.

"R'Khell," hissed Cha'rif. "My uncle will see to it that we begin to break them, and soon."

"I thank you, sir," said President Mendellsohn.

Baron Cha'rif nodded.

"The enemy's actions are devilry," said Lt. General Hidalgo Camacho, who was still the chief of Logistics. "We've had another submarine attack just this week that has held up supplies that we needed at Neptune."

Surgeon General Patricia Llewellyn added, "That other attack this week held up medicines that the Mars Colony needed. How am I supposed to maintain public health on the colonies if you people can't ship me the medicines that WHO and the EDF medical officers need?"

"We're trying," said General Stone. "But these attackers are popping up faster than we can get patrol cruisers and destroyers out there to intercept them."

"I suggest you appoint some new officers to run some additional _squadrons_," snorted Dr. Llewellyn. "I'm an old ship's surgeon myself. You can't operate on people without supplies, and you can't interdict raiders without aggressive skippers out there. When those rotations come up in January, appoint some younger people to run some squadrons and to fill in on other ones. Be creative."

"What are you finding out on your end?" asked Singleton as he turned to General Franz Kohler, the Intelligence Chief.

"There are still Josiahites out there, unfortunately," said Kohler. "The battle that Commodore Wildstar was in back in the summer…well…they wiped out their most dangerous terrorist cell, but I have word that they are recruiting others."

"Who is _behind_ this?" asked General Ryu Higashikuni, the new Military Attaché to the Senate Armed Services Committee.

"We have intelligence," said Astra of Iscandar, the Ambassador to Earth, as she stood up. "The intelligence states that there seems to be a mind behind this madness and hatred. We just don't know _who_ that mind is…_yet_…"

"I propose that we create six new Patrol Cruiser squadrons and deploy them by January," said Singleton. "We'll have to pull ships out of reserve, and build others, but…"

"Seconded," said General Stone.

The President and Prime Minister nodded. "You should vote now," said the President. "Commander?"

Singleton stood and said, "_For_ the motion?"

Stone raised his hand, followed by Llewellyn, Kohler, Higashikuni, Camacho, followed by Samuel Plessis, the new Minister of Communications, followed by Daniel Margolis, the Member of Parliament present who was the Assembly Attaché to the Armed Services Committee. After a moment, Chinmaya Rajiv, the Minister of Commerce, voted "yea", followed by Minister Hugo Utrecht, who was the Minister of Emergency Preparations, Defense Minister Neil Ainsley (who had taken the place of the Undersecretary of the Defense Minister on the reorganized Council), Minister of Science Brian Paulson, Operations Chief General Staci Willis, General Muhammad of the Spaceship Design Bureau, Minister of Interstellar Trade Deena Banks. Finally, John Bander, the Minister for the Space Colonies, voted "yea", followed by Karl Michaelman, who was the new Minister for Solar System Energy Transmission. The motion passed, 16-0. Singleton did not have to vote.

"Now," said the Commander. "On to other business…."

* * *

**TO BE CONCLUDED With Part Seven: "Treachery's Fruit"**


	7. Chapter 7

**ALTERNATE TALES OF THE STAR FORCE**

**STAR BLAZERS****---****TREACHERY **

**Being the second part of _THE NEW COMET_--- BY: Frederick P. Kopetz**

* * *

This Act is being completed with the Cooperation and Assistance of Derek A.C. Wakefield (as usual)---_Freddo_

_Notes: This chapter is dedicated to Inguzfor the reviews!_

_This installment contains (in flashbacks) a bit of upsetting graphic violence—this is just to warn my readers. Also, there will be one more installment to this story--it has turned out to be longer than I thought it would be; and sorry about the silence; I am now reviewing for the Bar Exam in February, and that study is taking a bit of time.--Freddo _

* * *

**ACT SEVEN: TREACHERY'S FRUIT**

* * *

**I. MEETING TIME**

**Earth**

**The Space Fighters' Training School**

**Richardson Hall: Lecture Hall Five**

**Tuesday, October 1, 2205**

**1430 Hours: Earth Time**

* * *

Deke Wakefield and Jere Marrable sat in about the fourth row in the huge lecture hall in Richardson Hall along with several hundred other Midshipmen, listening to the Commandant, Rear Admiral DeLong as he introduced the last of today's guests. "And finally, this fourth and final officer is also a veteran of the First Star Force, currently serving as a Basic and Advanced Fighter Tactics Instructor; he has hundreds of hours of flight time as leader of the Black Tigers; let me introduce Commander Jefferson Hardy." 

There was more applause as Hardy stood. He was seated beside Commodore Derek Wildstar, Lieutenant Commander Nova Wildstar, and Commander Stephen Sandor. Then, Rear Admiral DeLong said, "Commodore Wildstar, would you begin today?"

Derek stood, saluted, and then walked up to the podium in his red and white Academy instructors' uniform with his notes under some muted applause. "As many of you know, I am teaching here at the Academy this semester. However, your most important lessons will not be learned in a classroom; they will, instead, be learned in the real world."

"We had to re-learn quite a few lessons ourselves at the edge of the solar system not long ago. I am authorized to inform you that, as part of a chain of events that began on 7 June earlier this summer…as of 7 June, gentlemen and ladies, we are again in an undeclared state of war with the Comet Empire."

Wildstar paused to let his words sink in as the hall buzzed with surprised whispered comments. "I am aware that most of the details of this matter were not reported in the press; that was to avoid panic. As such, you must consider this information strictly classified under a confidential classification. There is much that I cannot tell you about this engagement that the _Yamato_ was involved in near the site of Brumus…"

The hall buzzed again; Wildstar again waited for everyone to calm down as, beside him, Nova sat in her own red and white uniform with her hands on her skirt on top of her notes as she listened to her husband. From his seat, Sandor noticed that Nova also had a Marine combat knife on top of her notes. He didn't know why. He would soon find out.

"…but I can tell you enough to let you know that Earth was treacherously attacked by Cometine forces. While on maneuvers, the First Star Force was attacked by a fleet of fourteen Cometine destroyers and an antimatter missile ship. A good-sized battle ensued, with a degree of reinforcement and organization that told us that this was no random raid, but the beginning of a new war. At roughly the same time that we were attacked, the 18th Interplanetary Defense Squadron and the 20th Interplanetary Defense Squadron were also attacked by Cometine forces. These attacks began as attacks by antimatter missile ships and submarines, but they soon grew into an all-out engagement. I must stress that in this engagement, there were casualties. The 18th and 20th Squadrons lost two patrol cruisers and three frigates in battle, and the _Yamato_ lost several planes. The first engagement ended only when the _Yamato_ finally took out the enemy fleet with her wave motion gun, even though the 18th and 20th Squadrons also destroyed several vessels, even as they took losses. Some of you have been on your summer training cruise already, and I am sure you know enough to know that battle is no game. There are real costs, and you and your subordinates and shipmates will be faced with a real risk of death out there in deep space. Out in space, a mistake, an error of judgment, can kill you _very_ quickly. Therefore, you must always be on the alert."

The hall was silent as Commodore Wildstar continued. "However, the action of the seventh of June was not the only action we were involved in. There was a second attack on 8 June. As you know, there was another world-wide power blackout that day. That blackout took place because our energy transmission systems were attacked by _more_ Cometine forces that day. I have been made aware that two of you spotted a Scorpion plane right over this campus that day and reported it. It was an excellent piece of observation."

Deke Wakefield looked at Brew, and they nodded at each other, learning for the first time that their sighting was part of a much greater puzzle. A moment later, Commodore Wildstar continued as he said, "Later on 8 June, while the _Yamato_ sat on Pluto undergoing repairs from the first battle, the base and our ship were again attacked by Cometine forces. It was a major engagement. We just got out of dock in enough time to sortie. Many other ships didn't sortie that day; many vessels were destroyed at their moorings on Pluto by the enemy. We were then involved in another fleet action that same day as we dealt with the fleet that attacked Pluto Base. After we drove away the enemy that day, we had left the solar system in search of remnants of the enemy fleet, and we were involved yet again in another battle near Centaurus with a large _R'Khell_ force; we were aided by the Second Star Force aboard the space battleship _Arizona_ in that battle. When the smoke finally cleared, we had defeated the enemy, but in a grim cost in lives aboard our ship. And, in that battle, we learned that the R'Khells and the Cometines are now allies."

The hall buzzed yet again as Commodore Wildstar said, "Yes, we face a war from two fronts. And that is not the only front where we faced battle. After we were done fighting in space, we came home on 12 July. Not long afterwards, we were involved in another battle, with terrorists of the Josiahite cult, right here on Earth in the mountains of Colorado in the United States on 12 July. In that battle, Lieutenant Commander Wildstar and I, along with some other Star Force veterans, were in hand-to-hand combat with the terrorists in a ground action that was just as brutal as the combat in which were involved in space. And, we later received word through the Gamilon Embassy that the Gamilons were attacked by Cometine forces at roughly the same time. In that attack, Leader Desslok himself was almost assassinated. Since a good part of our current alliance with the Gamilon-Garuman Empire involves the goodwill of Desslok, we don't know what the effect on interstellar politics would have been if Desslok, our former enemy turned ally, had been killed in that battle. And, at roughly the same time, I am told that the R'Khell/Rikashan Civil War flared up again on the other side of the Galaxy. And, finally, in the past few days, there have been further attacks by the Cometines, we suspect, on Earth shipping in the solar system from space submarines."

"Nine attacks upon us and our allies, in less than five months. We don't know the full pattern yet, and we are still investigating, but things could get worse at any time. For all we know, those of you who are seniors may be called back into this hall in a few weeks and informed that you are to graduate early in order to receive your commissions and go on active duty. It has happened before, ladies and gentlemen. And, my friends, we don't know where this will end…"

Derek continued in this vein for several minutes, briefly reviewing some of the details of each battle, and emphasizing the grim truths that lives were lost in each battle. He finally stopped as he introduced Nova. The young officer received her applause, but the hall was quiet as she took the podium and said, "I am aware that you are taught in your classes that command may fall on your shoulders at any time during a battle, and that you must retain a clear mind in the event of this happening to you. It happened to me several times in the past, and, in the battle on 7 June that the Commodore has just lectured you on, command of the 18th Interplanetary Defense Squadron fell on my shoulders when the patrol cruiser that was our flagship was abruptly destroyed in battle along with our commanding officer. I had to take command since I was the senior officer present on my own patrol cruiser. I was trained for such an eventuality, but I must emphasize that it was not an easy task, nor an easy battle. I was scared. Several times, I thought we might lose the battle. It is no offense against honor to be scared in combat; but it is an offense if you can't deal with that fear."

At that, Nova paused, letting her quiet but assured words sink in among the midshipmen. Then, she continued. "I dealt with it, and I was able to pull victory out of the jaws of defeat in order to lend support to the 20th Interplanetary Defense Squadron as my decimated squadron joined forces with it in order to carry on the battle, and then to aid the space battleship _Yamato_ in battle. As such, any of you may, in your actual service, find yourselves in this situation at any time. It is _not_ a game, ladies and gentlemen…and I saw graphic evidence of the death and destruction in that battle and in the other actions we were engaged in later that week, and in the following weeks. I saw the battle as a commander from the patrol cruiser _Danube_, I saw more battle later as an officer aboard the space battleship _Yamato_ as I was reassigned back there, and in my capacity as a combat nurse on the _Yamato_, I worked on dying men and women. War is not a pretty business. Finally, in that engagement in Colorado, I saved lives as a medic, but I also took lives as an officer and soldier to protect my men; I took one of those lives, at close quarters, with this combat knife," said Nova as she held up a Marine combat knife. She paused again, and said, "I put this knife right into a terrorist's carotid artery, just as I was trained to do in that situation. My training took over at that moment. I dealt with the…complications…later on in the quiet of my heart. But, in battle, you don't have that luxury. You react. Because in combat, it can be them, or you…and I had a knife like this against my own throat at that point. It is not a game. It can happen to any one of you in the Fleet, and…at _any_ time."

Near the back of the hall, Sasha sat enraptured and shocked as she heard her aunt's story about the battles she was involved in. _Mother was right_, she thought as she remembered several conversations she had been through over the years with her mother, Queen Starsha. _War is a very nasty business. Mother wanted to be sure I had the stomach for it before I even enrolled here. I just hope that I do have the right stuff to be able to deal with this…these stories…they sound just awful!_

And, at that, the speech from Nova continued, followed by talks from Sandor, and from Hardy. Their talks were supplemented by battle footage from the different engagements.

The themes were similar; _We__ are falling into war. The war will probably be worse by the time you graduate. You must learn hard, and be ready for action, at any time. _

It was a presentation that would remain in the minds of the midshipmen for quite a long time. The mood remained somber even as the Commandant dismissed everyone. Not even Brew had any wise comments as they filed out of the lecture hall.

_Well_, he thought. _Welcome to being an officer._ _Looks like they pay you like they do for a damn good reason._

What Brew did not know was that, in a few weeks, death would come right into the very gates of the Academy itself. And in the events that surrounded that death, all of them would learn one thing; in the parting words of Commander Jefferson Hardy, "Even when you are trainin', it can be very, very dangerous. In this business, death is yoah constant companion. The sooner you leahn that, the better it will be for you when you strap on a fightah plane; or whatever you will be doing in the Fleet. I hope you understand that; this is no game, people. This is _no_ friggin' game."

* * *

**II. PRACTICE AND CONFUSION**

**Earth**

**The Space Fighters' Training School**

**Firing**** Range**

**Tuesday, October 1, 2205**

**1730 Hours: Earth Time**

* * *

Deke Wakefield hardly needed another reminder of the battle that he had been involved in back in July in Colorado as he helped Sasha "Petrovsky" adjust her hands on her weapon at the firing range. 

"You're getting a lot better at this," he said.

"Thanks," replied Sasha in a quiet voice as shivers ran down his spine again. Again, Sasha had her hair up, and her eyes partly hidden behind goggles.

Again, Deke Wakefield wondered what she really looked like as she primed her weapon for another firing session. "We're going to be on full-auto now, Deke?" she asked.

Deke nodded. "Stay loose. Don't let the weapon scare you. I know it's hard to think of it as such, but this weapon is your best friend when you're in a tight spot. Now, fire!"

Sasha smiled softly and then began to fire.

Nearly all of her practice laser rounds were bull's eyes in the electronic targeting unit at the far end of the range, many meters away, even when firing a burst from a prone position. Deke looked at the score as it came up a moment later on the small LCD screen near her firing position. "Shoot, you're getting better than I am with that!"

"Is that a _bad_ thing?" said Sasha in a quiet voice.

"No, not at all."

"I'm trying to think of this as an exercise, Deke. Even though…it's kind of hard to. Especially after that lecture we heard today."

"I know it's hard," said Deke.

"How hard is it?" said Sasha.

At that, Deke fell silent. For a moment, he felt like telling Sasha everything…everything about his childhood, the death of his parents and his sister in the Gamilon war, the suffering he had seen as a Junior Space Cadet Corps cadet then while keeping order, the pain he had seen during the Cometine conflict; the pain of his breakup with Dawn; the pain and suffering he had seen during the Rikasha Incident, and then what had happened to him during the events of "Wakefield's Revenge" at the Academy in his freshman year, and, finally, the battle in Colorado.

Had he told Sasha everything then, he would have heard her full story, too, and she would have confided in him then, and held nothing back, and their relationship might have been very different.

But, he didn't talk. He just looked at Sasha. Yet, he knew that even as he looked at her, she understood _something_.

How did he know that? He was thinking of a dark time in his past, a dark time during JSCC duty in the Gamilon War…

The dark time he had felt during the food riots.

It was a dark time because it was the first time he had ever killed anyone…

* * *

It was March 12, 2200. 

At that time, Deke was just sixteen years old.

Due to the Gamilon planet bombings, the populace of Earth was living in underground cities below the ravaged, dry, dead radioactive surface of the planet.

Conditions in the underground cities were grim and difficult, particularly as supplies began to grow short as the Star Force continued on its mission towards Iscandar.

The battered ship was now very close to the Great Magellenic Cloud in March; but the populace of Earth didn't know that. Despair was becoming everyone's steadfast companion in those dark days.

And this was especially true in San Diego, California, where supplies were beginning to truly run short.

In January of 2200, civilian riots over shortages of food, clothing, and other basic supplies led to Deke and his JSCC Unit being mobilized to aid local Marine and police units in guarding critical supply centers in the San Diego region. This ended Deke's rather benign (up to that time) work with Dawn and his other classmates at the local World Health Organization Centers.

Deke remembered that Dawn had gotten scared at seeing Deke (who was now a junior cadet officer) leading a platoon on guard duty with their SL-41 Shetland rifles outside the local food production center (with angry picketers yelling and throwing things at the police, Marines, and JSCC guards). Deke vaguely remembered hearing her speaking with her mother Lynn and his mother Jess (who was then still alive) about her fears. Deke remembered that they were all concerned that it would only take one spark for the whole matter to explode...

That spark hit the tinder in the early afternoon of March 12, 2200 during a particularly tense demonstration near the underground city of San Diego's Federal Food Distribution Center.

There was a major demonstration, that day. The leaders of the demonstrators believed that the Federal guards would not fire upon their own people. As food rationing increased, and everyone was abruptly cut down to half rations, they invoked a major riot at the Food Center as a desperate act to get more food. They felt they had no choice, particularly for the babies, children, and pregnant women involved.

Deke remembered that day was particularly chaotic. There was a lot of yelling and shouting at first, not much more than that. Still, Deke, in command of his Junior Space Cadet Corps unit near the entrance to the food center, found the spectacle to be disturbing.

"_Remain calm_!" an assistant police chief barked into a megaphone as the lights of the underground city glinted off his white helmet. "Your needs will be dealt with! They are being taken into account! However, we must make sure everyone is fed!"

"When?" cried a woman who was holding up a lethargic baby clad only in a diaper. "When my daughter dies? I'm _sick!_ My milk has run out!"

"What about my son?" roared a man who held up his son. "My wife just died of radiation sickness! You said you couldn't provide formula at once; you told me to find a relative who could nurse him! And his diapers have run out! Look! My son has nothing on because of you! LOOK!" he roared as he held up his naked baby son.

"What am I supposed to eat?" cried another woman in a dirty dress. "And what the hell am I supposed to wear? A paper hospital gown? My last dress is rotting on me. Look!"

"We're starving, _damn you_!" roared a bearded man with a bandanna around his head. "And you want to put my son and daughter on half rations? What about my wife, who's just begun bleeding from her gums?"

"We're doing what we can," said Deke as the man got into his face. "Now, get BACK!"

"Yeah!" roared another man a few meters away. "He says get back! A _Goddamn kid_ is telling me to get back!"

"That cadet is a deputized peace officer," barked a tough Marine gunny sergeant. "Now you people had better well stay on your side of that friggin' tape, or…"

"Or what?" screamed a hysterical woman. "You'll kill us?"

"You're all Nazis!" yelled another man.

"You people are fascist pigs!" yelled a protestor through a megaphone that he grabbed from a guard he had just scuffled with.

Deke's hand tensed on his weapon as the crowd chanted variations of "Fascist pigs! Kill us!" and other such curses and challenges for several minutes.

Deke saw a police unit beating down a man with truncheons after he threw a filthy, human waste-laden baby diaper at a policeman. He gritted his teeth at the angry people, ignoring the curses of a hungry ten-year old boy as he spat on Deke and he thought_, If you people give me reason to use this Shetland, so help me, it'll be the last damn mistake you ever make_. _This is getting ugly. You'd better not charge us…or else._

"Yeah!" yelled a burly man as he stood before Deke and his unit. "What are you gonna do if we charge this line?"

"Yeah, _what_?" yelled someone else.

A Marine unit began to fire a water cannon at the rioters. There was screaming and confusion, and several rioters were trampled by their own as they ran to escape the water cannon, and ran into Deke's sector.

A moment later, Deke heard a sharp order over the earphones in his helmet. "Wakefield!" barked a Marine officer.

"Yessir," he replied.

"Close your helmets, we're trying CS tear gas on these people."

"Roger that," said Deke. "Squad!" he barked over his comm circuit, using a prearranged code. "Condition Green! Repeat, prepare for condition _green_!"

As one, the whole unit pushed down their helmet visors and made sure they had a gas seal. They got sealed just in time as, a moment later, three Marines tossed some CS gas grenades into the area.

The area filled with gas, screaming, and chaos as people fell to their knees weeping from their eyes. Deke could see some rioters running; others were vomiting. Deke felt a horrid quiver as he saw the naked baby boy in his father's hands screaming in terror and pain while urinating on his father, and voiding his bowels all over the place. Other rioters ran around.

Deke saw a pregnant woman with long blonde hair that would have been beautiful in other circumstances putting a rag over her nose and mouth as she waved her arm in an angry gesture, skipping with some amazing grace over a man lying on the cold cement as she knelt to help him. The woman was still somewhat stylishly dressed in a checkered pattern maternity minidress with a little pleated skirt at the bottom and white sandals, and she had a white headband around her head. She fell back a little, and in the chaos, Deke was surprised to see her take the screaming baby boy from his father. She said comforting words of some kind to the father as she, with no shame at all, cleaned the baby and then opened her dress to put the child to one of her breasts in order to feed and comfort him; her true poverty suddenly showed with her dress open as it was evident that she was nude under her dress. Deke felt almost sickened at the pathos of the sight, and he was also amazed that, even in her vulnerable, exposed condition, apparently indifferent to her exposure as the gas burned her skin, she kept the rag over her face and gestured towards a few of the protestors as she held the baby boy against herself to make sure that he was fed.

The woman then seemed to look very displeased as some men shook their heads, and kicked aside two police officers. They picked up a barricade and, howling, they used it as a battering ram to knock their way through some of the police and bash their way into a window of the food center. Two Marines began firing rubber bullets, but even as one of the men fell, another one climbed through the window and began to throw bundles of food out into a screaming, panicking, cursing mob.

Two minutes later, Deke received permission to fire rubber bullets at the rioters. Deke's unit fired off one volley; three men fell bleeding, wounded but not killed by the non-lethal projectiles. Some of the group fell back; Deke thought he could see the woman in the headband waving something white over her head with her free hand.

She looked enraged when a moment later, someone disregarded what seemed to be her signal as someone flung a Molotov Cocktail at a police lieutenant who, even in his body armor, went up screaming like a human torch.

"Yeah!" yelled one rioter through a megaphone. "We'll kill all of you!"

"KILL! KILL! KILL!" raved the mob as one of them got into a wrestling match with a Marine, got his weapon, and blew him away in cold blood with it.

A police officer did something to his weapon, and he fired at the armed protestor, dropping him in his tracks as his blood and internal organs sprayed all over the place. The crowd began to boo, scream, and roar at this.

Then, Deke heard a Marine officer barking again into his headset. "Mister Wakefield!"

"Aye, sir?"

"The Police have implemented Operation Hotel! Change ammo, and Fire at Will, Cadet Lieutenant!"

A quick thought ran through Deke's head. He knew that he was being asked to begin firing live combat ammo at the crowd. _Do we have to_? he thought. But, then, as he saw more rioters coming up over the barricades with sticks, rocks, and even knives, he knew what his reply would be a second later. "Aye, aye, sir. Roger that," he said laconically.

The CO cut off in his headset with a loud click. He had his orders now. Deke looked back at his unit and took out a live cartridge. He removed the rubber bullets from his weapon and then snapped, "LOCK AND LOAD, PEOPLE!" as his training took over.

Deke readied his Shetland with a sharp click as, behind him, twenty more weapons snapped to. One cadet stood silent.

"_Berringer_!" yelled Deke. "Lock and load, Mister! You were given an order!"

"Sir, those are…"

Deke turned his weapon towards his own squad mate. "_Do it_, Mister Berringer!"

Berringer's face went blank as he locked and loaded. At that, Deke nodded and turned to watch the crowd.

A moment later, the chaos really broke out. A few meters away, someone picked up a barricade and flung it at several police officers who were deployed behind their riot shields, and Deke saw a police officer fall down as he was stabbed. Shots began to ring out as the Marines returned fire in the gas and smoke, followed by the police.

Then, some flaming objects were thrown at Deke's unit. A moment later, ten men howled and began to run at them with a burning barricade held up as a battering ram.

"GO!" yelled Deke over his headset to his squad as they responded by firing from the hip with their Shetlands at the raging men.

Deke was the third man to fire as his training kicked in and he began to spray the crowd with bullets.

Then, Deke spotted his first target, behind the men. In the confusion and smoke, it was just a shape, but one that was running towards him very fast. A strong, evil-looking man behind her was screaming, "Run, BITCH, RUN! Don't you dare tell _us _any of your shit!"

Deke only saw "threat". He sighted in on the slender form a moment later and, snarling, he sprayed the form with bullets. Part of him was damn pleased when it hit the mark. Deke smiled grimly when he saw brain matter, blood, bone chips, and teeth flying back towards one of the protestors in a huge reddish-pink spray. Then, the form fell from the smoke into the light before him, twitching spastically as she fell onto her back.

Deke looked down at the form, which was right before his feet, and he felt sick.

Lying there, twitching in a huge pool of her own blood, was the young woman in the minidress with the headband. One of her arms still held what were now the pathetic, torn remains of the baby boy to her breast; her bare stomach was dyed red with her own blood from several bullet wounds. In her death throes, her head lifted up, and Deke could see that one of her eyes had been blown out-right through the back of her head.

Her head now had no back to it as blood spurted through what was left of her blonde hair. Her legs twitched, and one of her sandals fell off her now-bloody bare foot in her death throes. Something of what remained of her consciousness came to light as she lifted up a hand towards Deke, almost as if she was begging for help he couldn't give. Then, she twitched one last time, rolled over onto her side (mercifully, with her legs now closed) and she passed into eternity, falling onto her stomach as a huge amount of gore and grue and internal organs oozed out of the back of her ruined head and out of her back through massive holes that had been blown into her dress.

Deke looked on in shock at the dead woman's face; if it weren't for her missing right eye and the ruin of the back of her head, she would have looked almost serene in death. Indeed, she had actually died with a ghost of a smile on her face.

Deke bent over in shock as he folded what was left of the dress over her pitifully bared pregnant stomach and breast. He felt as if he wanted to throw up. Indeed, this pitiful moment would give him nightmares for years to come. "God," he muttered. "My God."

Then, a screaming, burly protestor with a red beard ran up to Berringer, who was beside Wakefield, and with a howl of rage, he slashed at Berringer and literally gutted him with a broken bottle. Then, he kicked the dying Berringer in the face and yelled, "You killed my niece, Sasha, you Goddamned son-of-a-bitch! Happy to see what you did? She was trying to get them all to _fall back_! Does it give you a hard-on or something, killing a total pacifist armed with a baby? Now, I'm coming for you, _asshole_!"

The man stepped on Berringer and came at Deke with the bottle. Deke hissed at him, then he just turned on the attacker and unloaded his magazine into his midsection with extreme prejudice. Reloading, Deke switched to full auto and with a roar, he mowed down a line of rioters charging their position as one of his men got Berringer.

"Sir, Jack is dead!" cried the cadet Corporal.

"I guessed that. Now get back into position! _Volley_!" Then, upon regaining control of his unit, they formed volley lines and proceeded to kinetically dissuade others from reaching their position with more blasts of fire as the chaos continued.

The chaos led to a 48 hour standoff between the rioters and guards. Dawn and Lynn watched the events from home as they unfolded on TV/Video (while Jess was working overtime at the Hospital). They were uncertain what might ultimately happen, or whether Deke was safe or not. The scene was a blood bath. Over two hundred people died in the battle. Eventually, the area was cordoned off by local authorities so that no one else could enter there. It wasn't not until things calmed down that they learned Deke was okay. Dawn learned that when he

was interviewed briefly by a reporter on TV. Dawn felt shaken as she realized that Deke was maintaining his leadership demeanor, but it was also obvious he was tired and shaken by the events. Deke's unit had to hold their ground for 72 hours before they could be relieved by a Marine unit.

And, for the moment, all food distribution was stopped until the Marines could finally regain order and control over the situation. From that point onwards, the food center would be guarded like an armed camp.

A surviving protestor caught on video for a moment before being cut off raged, "We were trying to get food to people! Not all of us wanted to be violent! Some of us were just going to protest peacefully, but Mrs. Morningstar…they…they killed her when she was _trying to order a surrender!_ They…"

Then, the protestor was cut off. Deke, who was watching from a video screen near his unit's temporary HQ wondered who the heck Mrs. Morningstar was. He didn't know, and didn't care at the moment as he ate his soup like a robot. Later, Deke returned home dirty, battered, and bruised, but with no major injuries. He just slept for a day before regaining some measure of consciousness. Jess was still working overtime at the hospital, so Dawn and Lynn tended to the sleeping young man.

When Deke woke up, he found Dawn and Lynn leaning over him. He looked down at himself. He was in bed in his boxer shorts, and he felt horrible.

"Dawn?" he said. "Dawn?"

"Oh, God, thank God you're okay," she said as she held him. "But, I can't look at you in that uniform today, Deke! I _can't!_"

"Why not?" he asked dumbly.

"I heard about it; they didn't have it on TV but there is a rumor going around that you killed a pregnant woman, Deke! WHY! **WHY?**"

"Dawn, _please!_ Deke," asked Lynn as she prepared to give him some soup. "Is it true?"

With tears running down his cheeks as he remembered in a rush, Deke said, "Yes, it's true."

"They made you into a _killer_," hissed Dawn as she picked up one of his boots and threw it against a wall. "They made you into some rotten _machine_, Deke! I didn't want you _joining up! _I _didn't_!"

"What was her name?" Deke said in a broken voice. "I remember something like Sara…something like…"

"Sasha Morningstar," said Lynn as she tucked Deke's covers over his bare chest. "Why, Deke? Why did you…"

"I couldn't help it," sobbed Deke. "I am disturbed that I had to kill. I am disturbed that they killed our guys, too, Dawn. Berringer, Smith, Young, Harrison…all those guys, Dawn. All classmates of ours. All dead. All killed by those people!"

"Why did you shoot that woman first?" said Dawn. "For the love of God, tell me why!" she said as she began to cry. Deke tried to hug her, but she recoiled from his touch. Deke looked at her, seeing as if for the first time that she was in jeans and a top that didn't seem to have been washed in three days. And her usually clean white socks looked filthy with dirt. "I mean, they stopped things because of the riot, Deke. The water was cut off until this morning. That's why I'm filthy. That and wondering if you were ever going to wake up or not, Deke!"

"I was ready to kill Gamilons," said Deke in a sheer monotone as he closed his eyes. "I never, _ever _thought I'd have to kill fellow humans. Hell, some of our classmates joined in the riot, and I had to kill them, too."

"WHO?" screamed Dawn.

"Peters, Tarantino, Brown. They were throwing _Molotovs_ at us, Dawn! In fact, Tarantino killed Harrison with some kind of bamboo spear or something…he just ran him through like a pig. I _spazzed_ when I saw that, Dawn. By the time I was done shooting at Vic Tarantino, at full auto, he didn't _have_ an upper body anymore," said Deke as he put his head in his hands. "It was the heat of the moment; just like with that woman. She was coming out of the smoke, and we were ordered to shoot to kill, and I thought she was rushing us and leading the damn charge like some _cavalry_ leader! And with her dress open! And with some baby at her breast! Why couldn't she find someplace quiet, away from that, to take that baby? What kind of woman would do something like that? And what made me that way? Shooting…God, when I realized what I did…I tried to cover her up…would have given her water, except…well, except that she just died so fast. She died. Almost in my arms! And I did it! WHY?" At that, Deke just began to cry, banging the bed in his sadness and frustration over the tragedy.

"Battle," said Lynn as she stroked Deke's hand. "It does that to people…even when they're as young as you…"

"Looking back, I hated it!" said Deke. Then, Deke related his pain and rage during the riot, having lost a bit of his humanity in the midst of the fight.

He told Dawn, "I'm so sorry, but…but… the rioters were the enemy and I didn't hesitate to mow them down as they charged the center and their positions. I was trying to help _all _of us…what if they had gotten at food meant for everyone? Dawn, I was trying to defend all of us, and my buddies. So that was real combat, huh? It was exhilarating, it was frightening, but it left me with nothing but mixed feelings at the end. I feel some of them, the violent ones, deserved what they got, but I also feel many of them were just dragged into the mess and didn't deserve to die. I'm not a killer, Dawn, Lynn. Please understand that. Please, Dawn. Understand! For us."

Dawn sat crying for ten minutes, not saying anything. She was very disturbed over what happened. Finally, she said, "Deke?"

"Yes?"

"I…"

"You want me to resign?"

"No….I don't like what happened, but, I'm sorry I called you a killer. I don't hold anything against you for your actions. You were just doing your duty…that's all. Poor Deke…just doing your duty…"

And, at that, Dawn hugged Deke and held him. Then, they began to have a long talk about the whole thing while Lynn rewarmed his uneaten soup. They would have many long talks about the incident over the next few months.

A few days later, after Deke talked to his mother about everything, a memorial service was given for the defenders who lost their lives in the riot. Shortly thereafter, the surviving defenders received commendations for their service in a public ceremony. The Mayor, Chief of Police, and Marine Commander all made speeches about the service and dedication of the defenders. Similarly, they declared that the surviving terrorists who led and participated in the insurrection would be brought to justice and given the punishment accorded to them. Most of them were found and either sent to the irradiated surface to die or otherwise punished. But a few of them escaped punishment by crawling into the crevices of society, risking their lives and health in abandoned parts of the underground city of San Diego (on higher levels) in order to evade justice, not caring that they had to eat offal, garbage, and even corpses to live.

Some of them would later join the Josiahite cult. Some of those same men and women, vicious and embittered, would help Yvona Josiah herself take the space battleship _Potemkin_ in 2202, and some of them gladly participated in battle against the Star Force, showing the EDF no consideration or honor whatsoever, as was typical for brigands. Others were with the Josiahites who had raided Colorado not long ago, while a few others were still alive and at large to this day. In fact, one of these same evil and embittered men, under the assumed name "Ashkeraz" had been the very man Nova Wildstar had referred to in her speech earlier that day in Richardson Hall; the very man who had put a knife against the gentle but strong heroine's throat before Deke's horrified eyes. The same man that Nova had finally killed with a knife and her own hands in that battle.

"Ashkeraz" had been the man who had screamed, "Run, bitch, RUN!" behind Sasha Morningstar as she had tried to order a retreat. He had driven the panicked woman into his sights like a fleeing lamb. If only Deke had known that at the time…

At any rate, as Deke tried to mourn, he found that no public service was permitted for those who died charging the center as their actions were seen as criminal. Only private ceremonies were allowed for their interment, which, under the circumstances in the underground city, would be the simple expedient of being placed in a crematorium in a shroud after having been removed from a light casket that had been reused several times. Although many saw the incident as being a massacre and a major injustice, the press was prohibited from covering the funeral services of the rioters who died so not to promote further civil unrest and violence.

Deke managed to learn more about the brave but sad woman that he shot down first during this time. Having been haunted by dreams of her slaying at his hands, he was nagged by the need to learn more about her. Against Jess's, Lynn's, and Dawn's wishes, he attended her memorial service dressed in civvies as his guilt and pain overwhelmed him.

At the service, it was said that the woman, named Sasha Morningstar, was very kind, concerned and involved in civic affairs. She was always volunteering for activities to help her community and fellow neighbors, and she had three children; with a fourth on the way. The fourth child would have been a little girl.

Deke also found out at the service that Sasha had been a member of a small community group dedicated to improving their lives by peaceful pressure, and dedicated to peaceful, legal protest. The sight of her husband James mourning over the loss of his wife and their unborn child just tore Deke up, particularly as he saw James trying to comfort the other three bereaved children. It was also clear that none of Sasha's family or friends understand why she would've charged the center as she aborrhed violence and was noted for her pacifistic ways.

"Why was she there?" asked Deke in a small voice.

"She was with a small group of friends," said a bereaved woman, who, as Deke learned, was Sasha's sister Victoria. "She was always trying to improve things. She wanted to get there to present the Administrator with a petition and then just get her half-ration and leave in peace and quiet after presenting her petition. She didn't even complain about how it might hurt the unborn baby, and she never asked for more herself. She was just…too good…too good to live, and she wouldn't have even harmed a mouse," sobbed Victoria as she looked at the white recycled pasteboard casket. The casket was covered with flowers, and it was closed. Yet, Sasha lay in the casket in what was now the only other dress she now owned due to the shortages and rationing….and soon, her body would be in a shroud, being burned. Deke prayed that her soul, somehow, had returned to its Maker to rest in His Peace forever.

Later that night, Deke spent more quiet time with Dawn and he broke down after having learned who the poor woman was. In spite of her charge, from what he had learned, it was true that she was just one of those who got dragged into the mess and didn't deserve to die, since she didn't have a violent demeanor at all. He keeps wondering why the hell couldn't she have just have stayed home that day. At any rate, Deke returned to guard duty at the food center, again serving as a platoon leader. There were still picketers marching around, but they stayed on their side of the "do not cross line" and their activities took on a peaceful demonstration-like demeanor as they sang and wept, some of them holding up small candles. Knowing better now, the demonstrators heeded the danger posed by the guards...

Especially Deke, who kept DJ locked and loaded…

* * *

In the present, Deke thought of telling Sasha all of this, but he decided not to. Still, she could sense that something was wrong as Deke stood there with his eyes closed and his face contorted in pain. 

"What's wrong?" she asked.

"Nothing; just a very bitter memory…about the past here on Earth during the Gamilon War. I _hate_ Gamilons."

"So do I" said Sasha as she averted her own eyes.

"Why?" asked Deke.

Sasha thought back to an unpleasant experience; or, rather, many of them, while she had been growing up on Iscandar, and she said, "I'd rather not talk about it."

"Just like I'd rather not talk about what went through my head just now."

Sasha nodded and stood up, after securing her weapon. "I think we're done for now," she said as she pushed her goggles up over the brim of her fatigue cap. Deke suddenly noticed that she had beautiful light burgundy-brown eyes. Then, she said, "But you are an interesting person, sir. Let's get together somewhere and talk a bit sometime."

"Where?" he asked. "You're an underclassman; you know they only allow juniors and seniors in the Rat."

"I know," said Sasha. "There's this little coffee bar off-campus, over in the outskirts of Kawaguchi. It's a bit of a walk, but you can be there in a few minutes. A relative pointed it out to me once."

"So when do you want to get together to…talk?" said Deke as he picked up his weapon and equipment.

"Early Friday night; the fourth, at nineteen hundred, after dinner. I'll be there waiting for you."

"How will I recognize you?" asked Deke.

"Easy; I'll be in blue," said Sasha. "Take care, sir."

"You too," said Deke. It just escaped him that he had just accepted his first offer of a date…of sorts, ever since he had split up with Dawn.

But, Deke wasn't thinking that way. He still had Dawn on his brain. But, part of Sasha stuck somewhere…in his subconscious.

He thought she was both smart and compassionate, and that it would be a shame if he snubbed her. She was just too…nice.

* * *

It was evident that Deke had Dawn on the brain, since when he returned to his room, the biggest thought on his mind was actually writing a letter to Dawn's mother, Lynn (who had been like a mother of sorts to him, too, after his own mother Jessica had died) to ask Lynn why Dawn wasn't replying to his letters. 

Brew wasn't there, and Deke spent some time looking over the room they shared.

Neither of them lived in a hovel, by any means (since such a place would not have ever passed the frequent military quarters inspections that were a part of Academy life). But, the two sides of their room reflected two very different personalities.

Brew's side of the room had a rather bare desk with just a few books and note books on it near the computer, along with a collection of beer bottles set carefully against the wall like soldiers.

Above the desk, near his locker were the three posters each permitted to seniors (juniors could have two posters; sophomores could have one, and plebes were allowed no wall decorations at all.) One of the posters was a graphic of professional wrestlers, but two other two posters were much more…individualistic. One of them was a poster of several young women in thong bikini bottoms whose mostly-bare butts faced the camera and it had a caption that read "NO IFS, ANDS OR BUTTS", while the other one was a shot of several females in wetsuits displayed from the back and sides. All of the women had wetsuit tops on; but none of them had on _anything_ below the waist, and all of them had beautiful bottoms and legs on display. The one with the bare bottoms on it had been customized; it had a joke caption that said, **WANT GIRLS? CALL MIDS(1) (CDT ENSIGN) JERE MARRABLE AT 999-9999 FOR IMMEDIATE SERVICE TODAY – BUTTS ARE MY SPECIALTY. **

Deke shook his head and smiled at Brew's rather _hentai_ poster collection for a moment and then he turned his attention to his side of the room.

Deke had three posters on the wall, too. The first was of a girl in a blue bikini surfing, and the caption on that one read **"TOTALLY TUBULAR"**

The second poster was a piece of black-light art of a 1960'ish looking face with large glasses surrounded by a pattern of bizarre colors. The third was a standard flight recognition chart.

Deke's desk and the small bookcase nearby were a totally different story than Brew's desk and sparsely-populated bookcase. Deke's desk had his computer on it, along with several textbooks, notebooks and flight manuals, all neatly stacked in such a way so they would pass inspection. The bookcase, again neatly stacked, was filled with a collection of books on surfing, classic cars, military history, and nuclear warfare. Beside a few more supplemental textbooks were a few recently popular books. One of them was a heavy tome which was entitled _Our Star Blazers: An Account of the Iscandar Mission of the Argo in 2199-2200_, written by Derek Wildstar, Nova Wildstar, Mark Venture, Stephen Sandor, and the late Peter Conroy. The book had been a few years in the making and it had been released in early 2203. A similar book on the Comet Empire mission was reportedly still in the works. Another one of Deke's books was a recent-history book on the underground cities, civil defense measures, and the gradual move back to the Earth's surface between late 2200 to late 2201 entitled _From the Depths to the Sunlight_. Deke hadn't finished this book yet; his studies were more intense than usual this semester, and this particular book wasn't pleasant reading…especially since he had lived through much of it himself.

Deke sat down at his PC and tried to begin his planned letter to Lynn, but he only got a few lines before he had to stop. It was just too painful.

_That damned Stovall_, thought Deke. _Breaking up with Dawn was bad enough, but what he did to my life in Plebe Year…that was even worse. Far worse._

Deke felt as if he wanted a cigarette, but he couldn't smoke in the dorms, so he contented himself with thinking about the past, and finally, after a few minutes, the following sad and angry missive poured from his fingers….

* * *

1 October 2205 

Lynn:

Hi.

I know it's been a little while since I last wrote to you. I'm doing fine, and I hope Dawn is OK, too.

I'm writing because of Dawn. I've sent her a few letters at Pan-Am University; I tried e-mailing her and they all bounced, and I got some paper and even tried the regular postal courier service (and you know how expensive that is, since the Government likes us to use e-mail; saves trees, they say…) but I've never gotten any sort of response from her, either via e-mail or via post.

I don't know if she's not getting my letters or if she is avoiding me on purpose. Maybe you could speak to her for me and tell her how I feel about things?

We grew up together, we were always together, and she was an inspiration to me for years, even after we stopped living together. I don't know if there is anything to this, but I would love to hear from her again…I'm hoping…hoping, for what?

Hoping her opinion on the military has changed. I'm going to graduate in a few months, Lynn. I am about to achieve my dream, and I'd like to share this dream with her, even if she hates it, and…

Oh, I might as well tell you.

Dawn helped me get through my Plebe Year. And she nearly got me thrown out of here, too.

Well, you know I've always been a combative sort of man; people have always been walking up to me and ramming their mouths into my fists, whether it was saying something about me and the long hair I used to have, saying something about my being on the drumline in school marching band, saying something about Dawn….I've always been ready to fight.

Plebe year, I nearly got thrown out of here. And it was because I was defending Dawn's honor.

Long-distance.

And she has never even written me to say hi.

Let me tell everything that happened to me in 2202, from Point A. I know we spoke about this a little once, but I don't know if you know the full story, Lynn.

I remember hearing from you that at Pan-Am her first year, Dawn joined that sorority and she then went wild and became a party animal during her first semester at Pan-Am. Accordingly, you told me her grades suffered badly. Very badly.

Well, that same year of 2202, in late October, my upperclassman platoon leader here at the Academy was this utter asshole named Mick Stovall, a third-year cadet. He learned everything about me and Dawn and how close we were. Right?

You'd think he just use that information to taunt me? Well, that guy did worse than that. One weekend he went to Pan-Am and found Dawn at a party. He got her drunk and he took advantage of her in a totally disgusting manner, and he also took a few snapshots as souvenirs.

In some of the snapshots, she was in her underwear. In some of them, she was naked, and in some of them…well, she was either doing things with him or was being exhibited by him in such a fashion that she looked like an extremely slutty centerfold model; not even a semi-tasteful shot of her nude like that damn blond actress Brandi Richards in Gentlemen's Club, but the sort of things you'd see instead in a magazine like Sluts Unlimited. The sort of thing they sell in brown paper wrappers. He must have gotten her really blitzed to be doing stuff like that. Mickey Stovall got back and he decided to distribute the photos all over campus. When I saw them, I went utterly ape ballistic over seeing Dawn in such a compromising, horrible, position. This led to him (Stovall) shoving his jaw into my fist. You know what happened. I was then put under hack (house arrest) pending Mast, my trial. During this time, I was visited by the Chaplain.

I was charged with striking a superior cadet and forced to stand before a commandant's mast. I was very nearly booted out of the school, save for the testimony of the school's chaplain. Prior to the mast, the chaplain spoke to the commandant about what he had learned about me. I later heard the commandant had previously decided to kick me out of school. Upon learning the background of how we…Dawn and I…grew up together and how we had been an item for so many years…well…the Commandant learned that. The Chaplain told me. Also, the Chaplain made sure he learned how she broke up with me, and how I sacrificed my personal feelings to go ahead and come to the school instead of dropping out and making up with her. The Chaplain told me and the Commandant this spoke volumes of my commitment and potential dedication as an officer. I was remanded to walking punishment tours, banned from any leave for the remainder of the semester, and required to attend mandatory counseling sessions for anger management.

In other words, they nearly threw me out of here for defending your daughter. Your daughter and her honor. And she won't even write to me, Lynn! What is wrong? I've even told her everything in those letters. Did she never read them or something? My roommate, Jere Marrable gave me a lot of sympathy during this time and the years afterwards. He definitely thought I got screwed.

At least there is some justice, though. My platoon leader, this Stovall guy, was shortly thereafter brought up on charges of actions unbecoming a gentleman and a cadet. I heard through scuttlebutt the Commandant was pissed at him beyond belief. I heard the Commandant said that socking it to plebes is understandable to weed out those that can't handle the rigors demanded of military life. However, he said, getting a non-plebe lady drunk and then seducing her, then spreading photos of her around to involve an emotional punch to a fellow cadet is beyond deplorable. I then heard the Commandant stated he had demonstrated by this action that Stovall lacked the character required of an officer. Thus, he was dishonorably expelled from the school. The whole incident later became known as "**Wakefield's Revenge**", and the whole Company of Cadets become very well aware of the incident through scuttlebutt. Everyone knows about it, but no one mentions it to me. They're afraid of losing teeth, I guess.

I heard later that Mick Stovall was remanded to enlisted training, since he previously signed his EDF contract at the end of his second year, committing himself to a six-year term of enlistment. Heard he was sent to the Space Marines as a buck private to endure the rigors of boot camp as an infantryman. Later, I heard through the grapevine that Stovall wound up in Leavenworth for either indecently assaulting some young female officer or the wife of an Admiral or something; the story varies depending upon whom you hear it from. I heard that they stuck this guy so deep in prison for this he might never get out. God knows who he assaulted; word is that the report of the incident went all the way up to General Singleton's desk in some morning report and he demanded that this guy stand the maximum penalty for it. I hope we never see HIM in the EDF again.

I know I wrote and told you a little of this in 2202, but I never told you everything, and I'm sorry. I know you must've heard something, from someone…I don't know who wrote you, but you told me you would get Dawn to write when you wrote me about this around January of '03. It is over two years later, and Dawn still hasn't written to me. Even if she doesn't ever want to be with me…again….I'd love to hear from her. We were so close…once.

Once. I still think about those times.

Hope to hear from you and Dawn soon.

Love,

**_Deke._**

* * *

Then, Deke hit the "send" button and he sent the long missive to Lynn. 

_I don't know what she'll do,_ he thought. _I don't know what she can do. But I'd love to hear from Dawn again. Someday._

_I wonder what happened to that bastard Stovall, by the way?_

_I wonder if he is still in jail?_

_Or did they boot him out of the service because of that…other girl he's supposed to have assaulted? And what happened to that girl?_

_Guess I'll never know…_

* * *

**III. HOW FAR TO PARADISE?**

**Earth**

**EDF Greater Arabia Air Base**

**Riyadh****, Saudi Arabia**

**Wednesday, October 2, 2205**

**1730 Hours: Earth Time**

**

* * *

**

A large EDF cargo plane sat idling on the runway at Greater Arabia Air Base as a group of Space Marines stood in rows listening to a briefing by their platoon leader, a Lieutenant named Mahmoud Safeer. Safeer, who had been born in this area, was a hardened Marine officer with a couple of years of combat under his belt. The hot desert wind and the little bit of sand didn't bother him at all as he addressed his platoon of sixty-five. They, like him, had changed out of desert tan fatigues into green BDU's, even though Safeer and another Saudi in his platoon known as Sergeant Khalid Burghal were the only two in the group that wore the traditional checkered Arab _khaffiyah_, or desert burnoose headdress, as part of their EDF uniform.

"All right," said Lieutenant Safeer; he spoke loudly so that he could be heard over the loud whine of the jets of the cargo plane they were about to board. "You know that we just accomplished our objective; they said there was a group of Josiahites trying to get at the Asran/Bahrain EDF fighter base there on our side of the strait at Al Khobar. Thanks to the efforts of you people, the 114th Platoon, and the efforts of the 120th and 163rd, not to mention those flyboys from the Firehorses, the famous Fighting 88th Squadron," said Safeer, "we beat them down. But now, word has it that another group of these people is reforming in China, someplace around Nanjing. You people are getting a one-way, all-expenses paid vacation in wonderful China as a result. That's why you are in greens, people."

Safeer paused. "I'm proud of you people; and let's give a big hoo-rah to our squad leaders. First Squad Leader Sergeant Ed Cantrell…"

The men cheered as a good-sized red-headed Canadian came forth.

"Second Squad Leader, Corporal Avram Kaufman…"

The men cheered again as a tall, but thinner Israeli with an eyepatch and a beard bowed at his Saudi CO.

"Third Squad Leader, Sergeant Namib Wanada…"

A strong, very dark-skinned African gave his CO a snappy salute.

"And last but not least, our newest Squad Leader, Fourth Squad Leader, Lance Corporal Mick Stovall…"

Only a few cheered when a tall, rangy man with a dirty face and stubby black hair saluted the CO. Stovall was a man with a thin, weaselly face that now looked meaner than it had in his Academy days since the bridge of his nose and a cheek were permanently disfigured with a nasty pink scar that had resulted from a bar fight he had been in not long after getting out of jail in Leavenworth. Stovall had since rebuilt his military record somewhat by serving a long time here in battle in Saudi Arabia and getting some rank back.

Everyone knew that Stovall was a great fighter, but they also knew that he was a mean, vicious man who was not easily trifled with. Stovall also had a terrible reputation with women; some word of his old indecent conduct conviction had made it out here to the desert, and his squad mates (some of whom had gone bar-hopping with him in Germany for a bit before being posted here) knew exactly how he treated women…which was that he treated them so badly that he would have made Bryan Hartcliffe seem to be noble by comparison. And his friends didn't mind much.

"So," said Safeer. "Do we have any questions?"

Stovall had his hand up. "Yes, Lance Corporal?"

"Hey," said Stovall in a nasty-sounding backwoods drawl. "Do they have a lot of targets there in China for us to…you know, kill?"

"They say there's a good-sized group of the cultists there, Stovall," said Safeer. "And they're telling us to use extreme prejudice on this bunch."

"Yeah," said Sergeant Cantrell. "Can't wait to see action again, sir."

"That makes several of us," said Safeer with a dark grin as he put his sunglasses back on. "Now, enough of this standing around shit; let's saddle up and get outta here, huh?"

The platoon roared their agreement, and then they broke ranks to begin going up the aft cargo ramp into the plane.

"Hey Mick," said one of Stovall's buddies, a guy named Parker Bunderman. "I bet you can't wait to get at some pieces of ass, huh?"

"They say Chinese food is damn good for ya," said Stovall. "But then they say that you're hungry again an hour later. That true with their women, too?"

"I don't think they mind that," said Bunderman.

"Yeah, I hope they all smell like moo shu pork," laughed Stovall. "You know what I wouldn't give to visit the Academy again when this mission is all over with?"

"Thought you were off-limits from there," said Bunderman as they boarded the aircraft and sat down together with their weapons on some of the web seating in the military aircraft.

"I'm sure I can finagle my way past some guards. Money talks. I wanna kick this one friggin' cadet's ass before the year's out…if he's still there, that is."

"Who?"

"Californian son of a bitch surfer dude named Wakefield," sneered Stovall. "I wanna kick his butt into next Tuesday. He's the guy got me thrown outta there, and I didn't do nothin' to him," said Stovall. "Nothin' but a joke. Goddamn plebe piece of SHIT."

"You told me you wanted to get someone else, too," whispered Bunderman.

"Yeah," said Stovall. "I wanna pay back a certain little bitch who put me in Leavenworth, next. Crying rape when all I did was put a friendly little hand up her little miniskirt once. Piece of crap. Gets away with shit because she's a rich bitch. And her old man got my brother Lance offed in space."

"Who was this?"

"Long story," said Mick as he looked around. "But I'll whisper to yuh what her name is."

Stovall whispered the name in his buddy's ear.

"No _way_!" laughed Bunderman.

"Hell, yeah," he said. "They say that actress Brandi Richards, who played her in that there picture show movie is a knockout? The real article is a knockout squared, buddy." Stovall smiled, not quite understanding the seriousness of his offense. As it was, he remembered the Court at his Court-Martial telling him that he was only being retained in the EDF because they needed manpower. The Presiding Judge had told him, "_If it was up to me, you would be thrown out of the Service after you served your time…but, you will be needed after that. Remember that, and remember you will not have a second chance_."

"You're full of shit," said Bunderman as he shook his head. "You are _so_ full of shit!"

"And she has a little pet robot that she told to kick my ass."

"Yeah, right," said Bunderman as the hatch closed.

"I swear, buddy, it really happened," said Stovall as he licked his lips.

* * *

A day later, a drastically different scene was going on at the Rathskellar at the Academy. 

It was almost 2130, and Deke and Brew were at a side table, trying to talk over some rather loud (and badly played) rock music; it was Amateur Night in the Rat tonight, and a couple of on-the-spot bands had played and broken up just as rapidly on the stage near the bar.

"So what was that you were sayin'?" asked Deke as Brew finished yet another bottle of beer; his second.

"Did you bring your sticks tonight, 'bro?"

"No, I didn't, cuz."

"That's no damn excuse. You know half the Academy is waiting to hear you play the drums with someone."

"I'm not going up there to play with _that_ bunch, Brew."

"Bro, that be no excuse," said Brew as he laughed. "They aren't half bad."

"That Lindenmuth guy," said Deke as he pointed out the Honor Board's up-and-coming lawyer. "He can write a brief, but he can't play a guitar for shit."

"Yeah," said Brew. "Who in here _can_ play?"

"I can, _mate_," said a heavily Scouse-accented voice as Brew and Deke noticed an officer in an Academy instructor's uniform and flight jacket pulling a laughing blonde in glasses, a blue top, white short shorts, and sneakers up by the hand. She was carrying a beer bottle and paper coaster in her other hand.

"Well, hello, sir," said Brew with a snappy salute as he recognized his Advanced Fighter tactics instructor, Senior Lieutenant Bryan Hartcliffe. "Deke, this guy here is my instructor, Lieutenant…"

"We've met already," said Deke in a purposely noncommittal tone. He didn't want to be disrespectful to a professor, but he had heard enough about Hartcliffe and his bizarre exploits in the Fleet to know that he wasn't exactly a sterling example of an officer. Deke sometimes wondered how the hell he had become an instructor. "Sir," he asked. "Who's the lady?"

"Junior Lieutenant Angelique Hartcliffe," laughed the woman. "Would you believe, I'm married to this guy? I'm flying with one of the fighter squadrons around the Megalopolis now, but I've got the night off, for once."

"I'd believe anything, ma'am," said Brew with a smile as Angie stretched and bent down to pick up the coaster. Deke smiled to himself as he noticed what part of Angie's anatomy was being ogled by his somewhat crude friend; namely, her butt. It looked very nice in her short shorts. A moment later, Angie squealed as her husband grinned and made a grab for her posterior himself.

"I saw yer lookin'," said Bryan with an evil grin as he looked at Brew. "You can look, but ye can't touch, of course, me cadet mate. Got it?"

"He was looking at _me_?" said Angie as her face turned red.

Then, Brew's gaze went elsewhere as a _very_ attractive young woman in a gold and black Star Force shipsuit came up running her hands through her mid-back length honey blond hair. She smiled at Deke and Brew and then said, "Bryan, Paul sent me over here on a mission."

"What the 'ell?" said Senior Lieutenant Hartcliffe. "It's Spooky Bleedin' Aliscea herself!"

"I'm not _spooky_, Bryan," laughed Aliscea Rosstowski.

Bryan got on his knees, rolled his eyes and said, "Please don't set me on fire, Aliscea! I'll be good! I won't look at yer butt, luv!"

Angie slapped Bryan on the back of his head as a very annoyed expression came over her face while Aliscea Rosstowski rolled up her eyes and looked peeved. "I'm sorry, Aliscea, but this…man…doesn't know when to stop making comments…when he's with his _wife_. When did you come home?"

"The _Arizona_ just landed this morning," said Aliscea. "We got recalled after a little chain of events out by Ross 154, and…oh, I'll tell you guys later," said Aliscea, as the Pellian remembered she couldn't say much more around a group of cadets. "Paul, Captain Venture, and Mrs. Venture are at that big table back there with Commodore and Mrs. Wildstar. Like to join us, Mister and Mrs. Hartcliffe?"

"Yeah," said Bryan. "If I can bring me mates," said Hartcliffe as he cocked a thumb back towards Deke and Brew.

"Why not, bro?" said Brew as he looked at Deke.

Deke rolled up his eyes. "Okay, cuz," he replied. "Let's go bother the brass for a while."

"I'm orderin' jalapenos," said Bryan. "The big greasy kind."

"Should you?" said Angie.

"I don't see a problem with it," he said as Deke and Brew noticed Nova getting up and coming over. She had on some sort of pink romper and boots tonight; Deke guessed she had found time to go home and change after classes. Nova nodded to Deke and Brew, and then she turned right to Bryan. "Bryan," she said. "Paul thinks that band up there…he thinks they're _terrible_."

"So do I," he said. "You remember me band, the Scarabs? I'm tryin' to get together a new band, but they sound much worse. So what's up?"

"Paul wants to get a band together. Like right now," said Nova. "He'll grab the bass, I'll do lead guitar, he wants you on rhythm guitar. We need a drummer. Derek said he'd try, but…well, I know my dear, dear Commodore has never played drums before. My poor Derek would probably make an utter ass out of himself. We could use Deke. You know he drums. Remember that time in the hotel?"

"Yeah," said Brew as he pointed out Deke. "He's a _veteran_ on drums; _ain't_ ya, bro? Ya willin' to step out tonight?"

"Well," began Deke. "I haven't played much in a while, I…."

"You'd be _great_," said Nova as her face lit up."

"Ma'am, I'm really out of practice…"

"So are most of _us_," laughed Nova. "C'mon, Mister. This isn't like we're going on prime time video! It's just for fun and we know we'll all probably make royal _asses_ out of ourselves, but…c'mon! What do you think?"

Deke took a deep breath. He had Dawn on the brain again, and, somehow, inexplicably, he saw Sasha's face swimming in his mind. _Guess she might like it if I did it_, he thought in a strange groove that he hadn't expected before. "Okay, ma'am, count me in."

"Great," said Nova. "I bet you'll sound wonderful. What sort of numbers are we doing, Bryan?"

Deke took another deep breath; this seemed like it would be a _very_ interesting band. _I don't believe it_, he thought. It's like _Little Red Riding Hood is getting up to jam with the Big Bad Wolf._

"Well, I thought we'd do garage band shit," he said.

"Watch the mouth, Mister Hartcliffe," said Nova with a wink.

"I'll be head lyricist," said Bryan.

"Keep it _clean_, please," shot back Nova.

"I'll try," he said. "Although I'm sure everyone here has 'eard colorful metaphors before. I'll tell 'em all to shake their smeggin' jewelry!"

"No you won't" snapped Nova as she ran back over towards a large round table in the corner. There, Derek Wildstar (clad in a flight jacket, sweater, jeans and boots) was talking with Captain Mark Venture (who was still in his Captain's peacoat and Star Force uniform), Paul Rosstowski (who was still in his Star Force uniform, too) and Holly Venture (who had changed into a white tank top, shorts, and thongs).

"Paul," she cried. "We have a drummer. Mister Wakefield's going to do it! I should have thought of that in the first place. I think I might've had one beer too many," said Nova in soft, giggly tones.

"Who?" said Rosstowski.

"I said, I'd do it," said Derek. "But…wait…Wakefield's here?"

Nova nodded.

"Well, okay," said Derek with a smile. "He's better than me. Guess I can try drumming some other time. Venture and I were having a long talk, anyway. Have fun, Nova. Break a leg up there."

"Thanks," she said as she blew Derek a kiss. As the other band ended its number, Nova urgently waved her hand for Paul, Deke, and Bryan to come up towards the small stage.

Commodore Wildstar invited Brew to sit down at the table with them, and Brew smiled like a fool as Wildstar introduced him to the Ventures and the Rosstowskis. Angie drank some of her beer and ate a few French fries; Nova had had the foresight to buy the group a large platter of bar fries covered with bacon and various cheeses beforehand. It was junky, but it was a fun dish to munch on in a bar at night. Brew was offered a few fries by Holly Venture as Commodore Wildstar asked Mark, "So how did it go out there?"

"End of the patrol was a mess," sighed Venture. He looked at Brew, prominent in his cadet uniform and then whispered to Derek, "I don't know how much I can say with _him_ here, Derek…"

"They know there's a war brewing already," said Wildstar. "If it's about that submarine attack earlier in the week out by Ross 154…well, we told them about that already…in a big meeting earlier this week. They're talking about the _possibility_ of early graduation for this class."

"Okay, I guess you know," said Venture as he looked at Brew. "The _Arizona_ was in a battle right before we came home."

"How bad?" said Brew.

"Bad enough that our engines were damaged," said Venture in a low voice. "We were just able to manage two more space warps before we had a burnout. When that burnout happened, we blew all our Titanite, Wildstar. Good thing it blew between Earth and the Moon. We had no Titanite supply left. It was submarines, Wildstar. Two wolf packs…going after a huge bulk freighter of ours heading towards Iscandar and Gamilon. They were Cometines, all right. We got them, but took a lot of damage, and we lost four pilots who were assisting with anti-sub warfare."

"Who?" said Wildstar as he gritted his teeth.

"Marris, Kurimoto, DiCrezenzo, and Verree. The first two of those guys were experienced. DiCrezenzo was on his second cruise, and Ensign Dana Verree was on her first cruise."

"Damn, I _knew_ Verree," said Brew as he painfully shut his eyes. "She even went _out_ with me twice before she graduated last year and we had to break it off," he said as a tear ran down his cheek. "My Nubian Princess, blown up like so much trash!"

"And Marris and Kurimoto were with us ever since the Rikasha Incident," said Wildstar with a sigh.

"Yeah, we lose people in these wars," said Holly with a tear running down her cheek while Aliscea shut her eyes and bowed her head as she quietly prayed for the repose of the dead pilots.

"Now I know what it's like to lose your friends," said Brew as he banged the table with a fist.

"Easy, Midshipman," said Wildstar in a soft voice as he put a hand over Brew's angry first. "Just chill. But I know it stinks. You don't know how many buddies I've lost."

"I almost wish they would graduate us early," said Brew as fire burned in his eyes.

* * *

In the meantime, up on stage, Hartcliffe was tapping the mike and tuning his borrowed Fender Telecaster guitar while Paul Rosstowski strapped on a big red Fender Jazz Bass. Nova was tuning her borrowed baby-blue Stratocaster and flicking a few switches on the instrument to get a "dirtier" sound out of it while, behind her, Deke had picked up an unfamiliar-feeling set of drumsticks, which he was using to feel his way among the tom-toms and the snare of the large mother-of-pearl drum set he sat behind while his foot took the measure of the bass pedal. The set wasn't set up the way he normally liked a drum set (the snare was on the wrong side for him, for one thing), but he could easily adapt to it. _This'll be sorta fun_, he thought. _Except I have no idea what we're playing yet. This might, my friends, turn out to be an utter fiasco._

"What are we calling the band?" asked Paul as he finished preparing.

"_The Bloody Cockroaches_!" yelled Hartcliffe as he shook some hair out of his glasses. He had recently shaved off his mustache, but his hair had grown longer and messier, and he looked more deranged than ever, somehow. While Nova shook hair out of her eyes, he yelled at her, "My hair's longer than yers, luv!"

"You're probably right," sniffed Nova. "What are we playing?"

"Garage band and surf music shit," said Bryan. "All of yer know _Surfin' Bird_?"

They nodded, and Deke was kind of pleased they were doing surf music; he liked it.

"Good. All of you know _Pipeline?_ _Wacky Surfer_? And we're gonna end with _Helter Skelter_, got it?"

The band nodded. "Good. Let's count on in, then, one, two…"

"Wait, we have to be introduced, first," said Paul. The announcer introduced the band, and then, at a signal from Hartcliffe, they started in on a clashing, grinding, screaming version of _Surfin' Bird_, a deranged piece of garage rock from the 20th Century when surf music had first been popular. As Deke grinned and drummed quite hard, Hartcliffe jumped around like an ape and screamed into the microphone like a maniac while playing mad power chords. Behind him, Paul and Nova stood behind two mikes, playing it cool as Rosstowski contributed the bass line and Lt. Commander Wildstar played a very professional-sounding lead at high speed. The crowd began to clap and cheer on Hartcliffe and Wakefield while Paul and Nova momentarily took Bryan's place on some of the more deranged vocals (which consisted of screaming and bubbling noises as the "bird" supposedly wiped out, Brew guessed) while the deranged-looking lead singer and rhythm guitarist caught his breath for a moment.

Finally, the song ended with lots of applause. The judges had an applause meter nearby, and they noted that The Bloody Cockroaches had a pretty good score.

Hartcliffe looked at Nova for a moment; she had taken off her guitar and was quickly pulling her boots off, followed by her socks. Then, she found a pair of pink legwarmers in her bag; she slipped them on, leaving the balls of her feet and toes exposed in the light knitted leg wear.

"Why'yer doin' that?" said Bryan.

"Makes it easier to dance," laughed Nova as she strapped back on her guitar. She began tapping her toes as they followed up with _Pipeline_, followed by _Wacky Surf_er (which was a contemporary surf-music style instrumental), the applause continued at each break in the act. Finally, they ended with _Helter Skelter_, a number that brought the house down, complete with Hartcliffe's shout at the end of "I've got blisters on me _fingers_!"

They came in second in the battle overall; an all-cadet band that had performed before them had taken first prize. When they sat down again, Hartcliffe returned to the remainder of his jalapeno dish while they talked some more.

Finally, Bryan stood. "'Scuse me," he said. "Feels like I gotta hit the loo…"

"Bryan, isn't that too much information?" said Angie. Then, she noticed.

Then, everyone noticed. Bryan had left a "silent but deadly" in his path.

Someone behind the bar rang a bell, and two people wearing gas masks came up to the area with air freshener spray to spray down the mess.

"Who was it?" said one of the men.

"Hartcliffe," said Commodore Wildstar with a disgusted look on his face.

"That guy," said Venture.

"Derek, let's get out of here," said Nova.

"Good idea," said Deke. "_Damn_ good idea," he added.

* * *

**TO BE CONTINUED...**


	8. Chapter 8

**ALTERNATE TALES OF THE STAR FORCE**

**STAR BLAZERS---TREACHERY **

**Being the second part of _THE NEW COMET_--- BY: Frederick P. Kopetz**

* * *

This Act is being completed with the Cooperation and Assistance of Derek A.C. Wakefield (as usual) At long last, we have the conclusion for this part of The New Comet. Sorry it took so long-have been tremendously busy the past few months with my new job and (almost) passing the Bar Exam. Trying the Bar again next year.---_Freddo_

* * *

**ACT EIGHT: A WINTER OF DISCONTENT**

* * *

**I. FIRST DATE (kind of…) **

**Earth**

**The Vicinity of the Space Fighters' Training School**

**Greatland's Coffee Shop: Kawaguchi**

**Friday, October 4, 2205**

**1900 Hours: Earth Time**

* * *

Deke Wakefield entered the Greatland's Coffee Shop alone (it was part of a planet-wide chain), not quite knowing what to expect. 

_Well, I'm here_, he thought. _But where's Sasha? She said she'd be in blue, and…_

Deke's thoughts, heart, and soul came to a screeching stop when he first spotted Sasha sipping decorously at a cup of coffee. She wore a white turtleneck, blue jacket and skirt, and charcoal-colored boots that matched her belt. But, it wasn't quite her apparel that made his heart stop.

It was her face. Never had he known that Sasha was hiding a gorgeous blonde mane of hair quite like hers, nor had he known how attractive her rounded face was.

_What's this?_ Deke thought. _She's gorgeous, and, shit, I don't even like blondes! But…what a blonde! Ghod! I thought Mrs. Wildstar was attractive! But her? She makes the great heroine Nova look like a dog by comparison! WOW!_

Sasha looked up from her coffee just long enough to smile and call Deke over with two fingers that were up in a playful "come-thee-hither" gesture.

Deke came over and sat down.

However, unknown to him, off in a corner of the coffee shop, Brew was sitting with some of his homework. His eyes nearly popped out when he saw Deke sitting down with Sasha.

_What?_ Brew thought. _Deke's with a girl? And she's a blonde? Sticks doesn't have a thing for blondes! What's goin' on here, bro? Woo, this is some crazy shit!_

"What do you want?" he asked.

"I'm treating," Sasha replied in a quiet voice.

"But…"

"I've got more than enough money," replied Sasha. For her, that was indeed the case; after all, she owned a good part of the wealth of Iscandar, and her family made sure that she had ample credits in the bank here on Earth. "Now, would you put your tongue back in your face and sit down, Deke?"

"Uh…sure."

The waitress came over a moment later and handed Deke a menu. He ordered a latte and a pastry, determined that he'd at least help Sasha with the tip.

"Did you hear about Hartcliffe the other night in the Rat?" began Deke.

Sasha giggled at that. "I've heard. News gets around fast about that character. Is he really that bad?"

"Yes, he is," said Deke, who almost regretted bringing up the subject. "And he thought it was funny to pinch his wife's butt in public on the way out. He got Nova once, too."

"My God," said Sasha as a blush came to her face. "He's like a human IQ-9 or something."

Deke was puzzled for a moment until several of Nova's passages in her book about the perverted "genius robot" came to his mind all at once. "You mean _that_ Ninth Class robot?"

"No, she means me," said a little red tin can that zipped up on its tracks.

Sasha put a hand over Deke's wrist and smiled, as if she was teasingly saying, "_Please protect me from the tinwit!"_ Deke not only didn't object, he also smiled back.

_This be crazy,_ thought Brew as he watched Deke and Sasha over his book. _He's not only forgotten about his squirrel, he's letting this second-year babe touch his hand and he's smilin! What's wrong with you, Deke? Get that gloomy crap taken outta yo' head at last?_

Deke couldn't quite believe what he was seeing as he looked at the robot. "So _you're_ the famous IQ-9?"

"Yes, I am a certified genius. I'm here with Doctor Sane."

"I hear you're a certified lunatic" said Sasha with a smile. She winked at Deke and said, "Are you gonna try to lift my skirt, IQ?"

"NO" said Deke as Sasha laughed softly. "Don't encourage him, Sasha. He'll…"

"Don't worry," said IQ-9. "I only do that to her Au….I mean, function call messed up…I mean, I only do that to Nova!"

"Get over here, you!" yelled a little fireplug of a man who seemed to be adding something from a bottle to his espresso. "Nova's not here tonight, IQ-9!"

"Yeah, we know that!" called out Sasha, who immediately put her hands over her mouth and grinned at Deke.

"You're encouraging him," said Deke.

"Teasing him," repeated Sasha.

"Same thing," said Deke.

"I like being a tease," said Sasha as she smiled at Deke again. The spell of her sparkling, happy eyes was something new for Deke; he vaguely remembered only how serious Dawn was all the time, having forgotten the good times they had once shared.

He again found himself holding hands with Sasha as he smiled back at her "tease" comment.

Brew couldn't believe what he was seeing. _Now he's smiling at her like an idiot, _he thought. I think the world's about to end_. Deke actually looks happy. Deke's actually scoring with a chick. Shit. Holeeee shit. _

Brew looked at another cadet sitting there. "Dude, I'm gonna have to buy me a jacket?"

"Why,. Brew?" asked this cadet, who vaguely knew him.

"Because, my friend, Hell is about to freeze over." He just pointed towards Wakefield, and his friend nodded.

"Function call negatory," said IQ-9. "She sort of looks like Nova and sort of smells like Nova, but she is _not_ Nova. Of course, the explanation is simple, because…"

"Well, don't let the whole damn world know it!" yelled Doctor Sane. "Get over here!"

"Bye, lovebirds" said IQ-9 as his dome flashed.

"Lovebirds?" said Deke.

"Well, you _are_ holding my hand," said Sasha. She laughed again. "That robot is a real nutcase."

"So, where are you from?" asked Deke.

"Someplace," said Sasha softly as she smiled at him and looked into his eyes.

_Damn, those eyes,_ he thought. _Why are they so beautiful? _

"Where's someplace?" asked Deke.

"Someplace far away," said Sasha, as she thought, _Let's be cagey here…I think that'll get him more interested…_"My dad's a military officer and my mom's kind of a scholarly type. Mom doesn't get out very much. Dad and I have always tried to get her to see more of the world, but she likes her books and staring at the ocean too much."

"So you're from somewhere around the coast?" asked Deke.

"You could say that," said Sasha. "Where are you from?"

"San Diego."

"Neat, we're both from the coast."

"Like to surf by any chance?"

"I like the water," said Sasha. "What's surfing?"

"_What's surfing_?" repeated Deke. "You're from around the shore in California someplace and you don't know what _surfing_ is?"

Sasha laughed. "Okay, I've seen one of my brothers doing it; I think. Is that where you put your bare feet on a board and try and ride a wave?" She knew about the concept of surfing, but because she had experienced it only on Iscandar, she didn't know the Terran English word for it!

"Bingo," said Deke. "I'm not half bad at it. I used to surf before the bombings…"

"The terrible planet bombings," sighed Sasha. She shut her eyes and wiped at a tear a moment later, knowing from her unique perspective (since she had not been on earth during the bombings) that it wasn't wise to say much more about something she had not lived through. But she had plenty of opinions about it that she kept to herself as she bit her lip and tried to hold back tears. _Mother,_ she thought. _I can't understand your logic. Why couldn't you have done more? People were dying. Why did you have to make the fate of Earth some kind of abstract case? I would never have done that…if I were on the throne. I….me…on the throne? Sure, like that'll ever happen. I'm like the Princess everyone in the family forgot._

"Did you lose someone close to you in the war, Sasha?"

"Yes," she said. "A dear aunt of mine."

"I'm sorry," said Deke.

_A dear Aunt I never even met_, Sasha thought. "Who did you lose in the war?" she said in a small voice that sounded as if she was on the verge of crying. Deke didn't feel comfortable pushing her much further, but he knew her question deserved an answer. After a moment, he said, "I lost both of my parents and my sister…_damn_ those Gamilons!"

"Gamilon has always been like that," said Sasha. "They were supposed to be so advanced, they should damn well know better! I could never figure out from my readings why such an advanced race could be so morally barbaric. Again…they should _know_ better!"

"Yeah, they should," said Deke. "And Iscandar should have done more, too."

"Explain your logic?" said Sasha in a quiet voice as she dabbed at her tears. "So we don't get upset at each other, let's consider this like a class exercise."

"Okay," said Deke. "Queen Starsha, she knew we were dying, right?"

"Right."

"And she knew she had a cure for our situation on her planet, right?"

"Right."

"Why did she not send Astra here years before, before millions, no…billions, were killed by the planet bombs? And then, why did she insist that we had to come get the Cosmo-DNA like a few gross tons of Chinese take-out with our own ship? And why did she not Goddamn tell us that Iscandar was smack next to Gamilon?"

"The _texts_ said she wanted to test the mettle of the people of Earth," said Sasha. "The texts and the stories and press releases we've read. And the Star Force went right along with it."

"Do you agree with that?"

"Hell no," snapped Sasha. _And that is the big difference between Mother and I,_ she thought. "When a baby needs a vaccine, do you see how loudly he can cry, first?" said Sasha. "No. You give him the vaccine and see to the rest later. In some ways, Starsha was almost as bad as Desslok in his inhumanity."

"Bingo," said Deke. "You know, most people don't think that way. They think Starsha was all-wise, like some goddess or something."

"She is not and was not all-wise," said Sasha with some vehemence.

"This is interesting," said Deke. "How do you know that?"

_Well, I can't tell you Mom and I had a big argument over the wave motion communicator the other day_, thought Sasha, _so…have to improvise again…_"Well," said Sasha. "Would you agree with the basic notion that all people are fallible?"

"Yes, I damn well do."

"Queen Starsha, despite her '_I see all and know all_' bit, is just as fallible as you and I, Deke," said Sasha, ignoring some of the dirty looks that were being shot in her direction from throughout the coffee shop.

From his place, Brew was actually surprised that Deke had not only apparently snagged a blonde, but one with brains and strong moral principles, to boot. _Again, this is just crazy,_ he thought. _Almost wanna go over and talk with her, but…no…don't wanna spoil the moment._

From her place at the table, Sasha continued, saying, "About Starsha. She's just human. She can screw up. And with the matter of Earth, I think she did screw up. I agree with you. She could have saved us years before she really did."

"Match and set," said Deke. "I haven't met a lot of people who think that way, Sasha…"

"Well, you haven't met me," said Sasha. "Oh. My full name is Sasha Petrovsky. Yours is Deke Wakefield, if I remember correctly."

"You do."

From his post at the table, Doctor Sane breathed a sigh of relief. _Not bad,_ he thought. _She didn't spill the beans. I can report to Nova later on that Sasha can go on a date and provide wonderful conversation that doesn't provide a clue to who she really is._

"I wish Nova and Wildstar would hurry up and get here," said Doctor Sane.

"I hope Nova has a skirt on," said IQ-9, who was thinking, _Logic dictates: Sasha needs to be distracted so she will not give away her identity here. Logic dictates: Nova's behind is adorable. Logic Dictates: I LOVE Nova. Logic Dictates: I must tease Nova when she comes in here to distract Mister Wakefield from asking Sasha too many questions. QED. _

"You would," said Doctor Sane.

The little bell above the door dinged, and Commodore Derek Wildstar walked in his black peacoat and Academy whites, followed by Nova, who wore her Academy whites, a flight jacket, sandals, and…of course…

…a skirt.

IQ-9's sensors lit up like crazy at that.

"Where _were_ you two?" yelled Doctor Sane. "You're late again! BOTH of you!"

_Ooo, Nova's here_, thought Brew from behind his book. _And so's the tinwit. This is gonna get good. Almost as good as Deke and Mystery Lady over there._

"Checking out the ship after class," said Derek as Nova stretched and yawned.

At their table, Deke and Sasha ignored the Wildstars for the moment as Deke's coffee came. He drank some of it as Sasha asked him, "So, what's your major?"

"Flight operations, specifically, being a fighter pilot. I know you don't have a major yet being in second year, but, what are you interested in?"

"Navigation. Radar Ops. I like working with numbers and things. I'm pretty good with integral calculus, applied calculus, et cetera…"

"Good," said Deke. "I was fairly good at that, but I have an applied math test coming up soon for one of my classes…couldja look at these equations?"

"Sure," said Sasha as she took Deke's notebook as he took it out of his gear bag. "Hmm," said Sasha. "These are tricky equations you have here."

"_Are_ you familiar with them?" he asked.

"Please don't be so condescending," said Sasha with a minor look of annoyance on her face. "I'm familiar with Belkamp's Theorem; but there's at least five ways you can calculate this set of terms and this navigational curve. This is for flying a fighter, right?"

"Right. Suborbital approach on a moving target. This is for sketching out the basic curve pre-flight in case your computer fails."

"Well," said Sasha. "You'd start it like this…"

At their table, Doctor Sane asked, "So how was _your_ day, Nova?"

"Did so much walking around today my feet hurt. It's been a long day," said Nova as she stood on tiptoes. "Hi, IQ. What's up?"

"Look down," piped IQ-9.

Nova did, and she saw that IQ-9 had raised her skirt…in "stealth" mode. She turned red and outraged as she realized that her half-slip, bare legs (one playfully clad with a trick garter for Derek's eyes only later that night for Operation Stork), and silken panties were on display for the entire clientele of the coffee shop. Some people began to applaud and clap.

At his table, Brew ducked down further behind his book, trying to make sure that Deke did not see him there. Still, he couldn't resist the temptation to steal a glance at Nova from over his book. He did notice from his perspective that in her partially pulled-up skirt and slip, her panties clothed a _very_ nice-looking behind. He licked his lips before he hid his face again.

"What's going on?" said Deke as he looked up from the math that Sasha was writing.

"Look to the right, Deke!" whispered Sasha, who did NOT want to be overheard. "Nova and IQ-9! They're so funny!"

Deke looked; then, he sat there with his eyes popping out of his head just before Sasha looked over again, blushed, and began to giggle her head off softly.

From his perch, Brew had put down his book, and he was clapping and laughing along with all of the other males in the place. Some of the waitresses (who looked fairly cute in their uniforms, which included ruffled blouses, skirts, and white nurses' sandals similar to the sort Nova had on) looked rather annoyed at the lunacy that was going on in the shop all of a sudden.

After the hubbub faded a little bit, Brew's friend told him, "Hey, Marrable."

"What?"

"Don't you have to go see Hartcliffe tonight in his office about that flight schedule tomorrow? The guy's keeping late hours tonight."

"Right," said Brew. "Hey, Redland, we gotta go. Although the timin' sucks," he said. "And I gotta change my uniform before that damn Hartcliffe gigs me for these here coffee stains." So, Brew and Redland left together a moment later.

"What a nut, Deke!" cried Sasha. "And we were actually _here_ to see it! Nova looks so funny when she gets mad!"

"Don't look too much," said Deke.

"Isn't it funny?" said Sasha.

"Yes, but she might give us boo-koo demerits for it," said Deke.

"You have a point there, Deke," said Sasha with a smile.

"_Stop that_!" snapped Commodore Wildstar at the little robot.

"YEAH! PUT DOWN YOUR DAMN HAND, TINWIT!" cried Nova.

"Yes, your underwear matches your toenails, just wanted to check," said IQ-9.

Nova grabbed Doctor Sane's sake bottle, stood back, and popped the cork. Then, she poured as much as she could over IQ-9's dome.

"What are you doing? WHAT are you doing?"

"Giving you hiccups," snapped Nova as she slammed the bottle of sake back down on the table and smoothed down her skirt. "Sorry, Doctor," said Nova. "I'll reimburse you later. Maybe this'll help reprogram him!"

"You'd better reimburse me for that; that was good sake," said Sane with a growl.

"You're a vet, Doc," said Nova. "You'd better get the soldering iron and help me get him neutered!"

"Won't work," piped IQ.

"Not necessarily," said Nova. "I've tried…"

"You're _crap_ with working with integrated circuits, Nova," said IQ, with all of the social grace of a bratty four-year old (and one with a potty mouth; Nova had just learned that he now thought it was "cute" to curse)

"I'm getting better at it," grinned Nova wickedly. "I did reprogram you so you wouldn't look in the shower at me."

"Too bad," said IQ.

"Why?" said Dr. Sane.

"You know that Nova is a work of art when she's naked," piped up IQ.

Nova blushed strongly at that as she thought _Not everyone here needs to know that!_ She wondered what IQ would think of what she sometimes wore to sunbathe in her yard (nothing) and then thought _I don't need to encourage him!_

"Nova, let's go get our coffee," said Derek. "You look…."

"Embarrassed," she said in a small voice.

"They have waitresses here, sir!" called out Sasha, hoping that her uncle wouldn't make sure she was wearing her guts for garters later on.

"No they don't," growled Commodore Wildstar.

"She's right, they _do_ have waitress service here," said Nova as she sat down, and pointedly put her purse on her skirt under the table. "C'mon, IQ," said Nova. "Sit, boy!"

"Sure, Nova," said IQ-9, who let an extendo-hand slip between the back of Nova's chair and the seat of her chair as he zipped past.

"_Oooooooooooo_" hissed Nova as she felt a hand on her tush.

"And that's the end of that first proof," said Sasha, who looked up and began to laugh again.

"What?" said Deke.

Sasha mouthed "look" as Deke looked over to see Nova looking very uncomfortable, and then relaxing as IQ-9 withdrew his hand.

"Remind me to keep him away from the graduation party," said Deke.

"Why?" laughed Sasha. "He's a riot. And he only picks on Nova."

"How do you know that?"

"Scuttlebutt," said Sasha. "Now, let me show you proof #2, the Campbellian Method of solving this nav-curve."

In the meantime, at their table, Nova was kicking IQ-9's treads; in her sandals, she could feel him gently trying to play footsie against her toes under the table, and it was driving her nuts. _IQ, what the hell did you put in your batteries this morning_? Nova thought in a very irritated fashion. She and Derek had had a very rough day, and she was in no mood for Tinwit's games this evening.

"What's wrong, Nova?" asked Derek, who looked very indignant at this game.

"I should have brought my guitar tonight, Derek," hissed Nova. "The solid-body Fender, preferably."

"Why?" said IQ-9.

"_So….I…can…brain you with…it_!" hissed Nova as she made a pair of fists.

"IQ, stop it," said Commodore Wildstar flatly.

"Do I have to?"

"It's an _order_," hissed Derek. A moment later, his conversation with Nova, Doctor Sane, and IQ-9 just faded into the general hubbub of the place below the soft pop music piped in over the speakers, and Deke and Sasha heard no more of it.

At their table, Deke asked, "I wonder how often that happens? With Mrs. Wildstar, I mean? That robot is a class-A pervert!"

"More often than you think," said Sasha. "I've talked to her a bit about it."

"And?"

"Well, she's trying to come up with some measure to stop him…but I don't know if she'll ever succeed or not."

"Why?"

"Let's say a little bird told me," said Sasha sweetly. She checked her watch and said, "It's almost twenty hundred. Before I have to hit my quarters, I have to show you those other three proofs."

"Okay, wanna stay here?"

"No, let's go to your room and finish this stuff."

"My room? Uh, why?"

"Don't you have reference books and a computer there? Also, I'm just curious. Never seen a pilot's room before," shrugged Sasha, who was again subtly lying; she had seen the master bedroom her aunt and uncle shared quite a few times in the past.

Strangely enough, Deke couldn't find any reason not to go along with Sasha's logic on this one. So, after she paid their check and he left the tip, they left.

* * *

A few minutes later, Deke and Sasha arrived back at the dorm where Deke and Brew dwelt. 

As Sasha and Deke went down the hall on their floor, Sasha said, "So this is your dorm?"

"Uh-huh."

"It's a little bigger than mine," said Sasha, who stepped through the door as Deke opened it.

They were quite surprised as they strode into Deke and Brew's room. In the middle of the room stood Brew, who stood there naked as a jaybird, amidst a pile of clothing and various whatnots, holding his empty sea chest over his head and shaking it to see if anything else would fall out.

"What?" said Deke.

"Yo, man, what'd you do with my other belt buckle?" yelled Brew as he looked at Deke. But then, when he noticed Sasha standing there looking at his nudity, Brew howled "_Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaargggghhhhh!_" in panic as he dropped his sea chest down to cover himself.

"Ohhhh NO!" Sasha screamed as she quickly stepped back out and slammed the door.

At that, Deke just died laughing.

"GODDAMNMUTHERFUHSONUFABITCH!" Brewski rattled off angrily as he looked for a towel. "Deke, what lousy timing, bringing a girl up to our room!"

"I'm sorry, Brew…I didn't know!" Sasha called out from the other side of the door.

"Now you _do_!" Tiger yelled laughing. "Brewski's secret's out. News at ten, film at eleven. Erection results as they happen."

"SCREW YOU MAN, GO TO HELL, DEKESTICKS!" Brew spat as the adrenaline pumped through his body waking him up good. Once he caught his breath, he said in a calm, even tone, "Sasha? You can come back in now."

"Yes?" she said uneasily.

"Do ya need something, Miss?" Brewski asked in a cordial tone, still holding his sea chest over his midsection.

"Uh…uh…damn. Oh yes! Deke and I were planning to study up here tonight. Could you please make yourself at least minimally decent? I wonder why he was like that, Deke? I mean, stark…"

"Oh, you know, Sasha. Brewski has to do his daily sea chest shuffle," Tiger said, still red faced from laughing. "Brew, meet Midshipman Sasha Petrovsky. Sasha, meet Jere "Brew" Marrable, my roommate and best friend."

"Pleased to make your acquaintance," smiled Sasha. She noticed that Brew was still holding his sea chest, and she said, "I'd offer my hand, except that I'm not sure what part of your anatomy I should shake. Both your hands…and…other parts of you…are pretty…uh…_big_."

Deke sat down on his bunk and began laughing like a maniac again while punching his mattress.

"You know, Deke," said Brew as Sasha walked around and sat down beside Deke on the bunk. "I'll have to pay you back for this, you rotten, lousy, stinkin'…"

"Watch the language, Brew. There's a lady present."

"And plenty of rear ends," said Sasha. "Both on the wall and in front of me," she said as she pointed at Brew's hentai collection of wall posters and then gestured towards Brew's own dark bottom. "Mister Marrable, why do you have all of these pictures of ladies' behinds on your bulkheads? Is he running some kind of house of ill repute in here, Deke?"

"Why do you say that?" said Brew. "Deke, I need a mother…"

"What do you need?" said Deke.

"A towel, man, a _towel_! Get that first!"

"Shut your eyes, Miss Petrovsky," said Deke with a smile as he gave her a peck on the forehead. Sasha shut them with a little smile on her face as Deke helped Brew cover himself with a towel. Then, Deke said, "Brew, why'd you have to make this joint look like some kind of disaster area?"

"Lookin' for my other belt buckle, man. I gotta see Hartcliffe in…thirty minutes in his office, and my uniform's messed up as shit."

"So's this room," said Deke. "I swear, if some officer pulled a surprise inspection now, we'd have all of our asses in such a sling that we'd…"

A moment later, a bang came on the hatch outside. Three bangs, authoritative and hard.

The usual signal that an officer was about to enter the room.

"Oh…." Deke said.

"Holy motherofgod…" said Brew.

"..shit," said Sasha.

Sasha was the only one who had enough presence of mind to yell out, "ROOM, TENSHUN!" as the door burst open…

…and her aunt and uncle came together into the room.

Sasha was at attention.

So was Deke.

Brew had been obliged to set down the sea chest. But, when he came to attention, his towel had fallen off and was puddled in folds of cloth around his toes.

As a result, when Nova Wildstar scanned the room, the first thing she happened to observe was…

…Brew's anatomy hanging out in the open.

Commodore Wildstar looked like he was about to yell, but Nova just shushed him and said, "Toad, I think it's getting a little _cold_ in here, isn't it?"

"Ma'am?" he said.

"Looks like someone's let the air out of your little friend," she said as she gestured at the appropriate body part with a pen. She then gingerly kicked aside an abandoned rank pin with her sandaled foot (being very careful not to get the pin caught in her big toe) and said, "Mister Wakefield, were we having a _scavenger hunt_ in here?"

"No…no excuse, ma'am," he said with a gulp.

"Definitely no excuse, sir…" said Sasha, who immediately regretted opening her mouth.

"Damn _straight_ there isn't," said Derek Wildstar with an evil glare. "I believe you midshipmen are aware of the regulations regarding how one is to keep their quarters?"

"Yessir," they all said in unison.

"And, Mister Marrable, I believe one is supposed to be in uniform…especially with visitors present in one's room?"

"Sir, I can explain," began Sasha.

"I was _not_ speaking to _you_, Miss Petrovsky; you _will_ let me carry on this conversation with these two other midshipmen!" snapped Derek.

"But, _sir_," she said.

"Let's begin with her. Nova, write her up for disobedience of a direct order: ten and five," said Wildstar as he tossed Nova a demerit pad. "Oh, write up the other two for poor maintenance of quarters, make those two fifteen hours' each, too."

"Yessir," said Nova as she took the pad while Deke and Brew's faces dropped.

"SIR!" said Sasha.

"Miss Petrovsky, don't make it worse. I was speaking to Mister Marrable? Mister Marrable, is there a good reason why you have your sea chest upside down on the deck, your clothing scattered all over the place, and why you are here stark naked with a lady present?"

"Two ladies," added Nova. "Even though I have seen everything Mister Marrable has to offer already. It's just the usual."

"Ma'am, you're not remembering that time back in Boulder when…"

"I am," grinned Nova. "Derek, at home in Boulder, I once found this young man in my room stripping off a wet swimsuit when he wasn't supposed to go swimming that day. I hid the evidence and sent him out of the room with a pair of my shorts covering up his aft portion."

"Ma'am, not _that_ story," said Brew.

Nova smiled. "No impropriety here, Derek. I think. Even though I remember he looked VERY cute in my pink shorts."

"So, how did you come to be bare in this room, in front of the current company?"

"Here's his pen, Derek," said Nova.

"How'd you find it?"

"Got caught in my sandal between my heel and the bottom," she said dryly.

"Well?" said Derek.

"Sir, I was lookin' through my shi…I mean…stuff…for a clean uniform because I have to see Hartcliffe in fifteen minutes. Then, these two just walked right in on me, and gave me very little warnin'! I got a towel on, but it fell off. You know the rest…"

"He _still_ has an obsession with ladies' behinds," said Nova with a sense of awe on her face as she wrote like crazy on her pad while looking at his poster collection on the bulkheads. She reached down and handed him a towel. "Put it on, Mister."

"At attention, ma'am?" he said.

"Oh," she said. "Commodore?"

Derek nodded. "At ease, people."

They went to at-ease.

"I'll tell you what," said Derek as he looked at Nova's pad and stopped her pen. "I'll just give you the fifteen hours each and nothing more that Mrs. Wildstar has already gigged you three for if you three can make this room shipshape in…oh…fifteen minutes. I could do more, but if this place looks decent, we'll go with that."

"And that includes dressing Mister Marrable," said Nova with a wink.

"Sir, I'll be late for my appointment," said Brew.

"You'll be in much worse trouble if this place doesn't transform itself from a shithole into a proper set of cadets' quarters in fourteen minutes," said Derek.  
"Nova, let's go down to the lounge and get some coffee out of a machine while they work."

"Sure," said Nova in a soft voice. Then she said, "You people got that?"

"Aye, aye," said Deke.

"MOVE IT, THEN!" yelled Nova as she slammed the hatch with an evil smile on her face.

"Well?" said Sasha.

"You heard the lady," said Deke.

"Please help us clean up," said Brew.

"All right…but you two WILL owe me," sang Sasha as she joined the two midshipmen on their knees cleaning the mess up.

While they cleaned up the mess, Sasha noticed a picture of a very attractive young woman on Deke's desk. "Who is she? Is she a relative?"

"Nope, she's his squirrel," said Brew.

"Squirrel?" said Sasha, who was totally puzzled.

"She has a fuzzy tail," said Brew.

"Brew, shut up," said Deke.

"Fuzzy tail?" said Sasha.

"It's a long story, Sasha, trust me," said Deke as he picked more stuff up.

"You're blushing," said Brew.

"Why are you blushing?" said Sasha.

"Think of the implications of….a fuzzy…," said Brew.

"Fuzzy what?" said Sasha in all innocence.

Then, Sasha just happened to pick up a magazine that belonged to Brew. "What kind of book is this? I…"

Then, something fell open. It was the centerfold. Miss November was on it.

"Fuzzy tail; squirrel," said Brew as he pointed at the proper portion of the centerfold model's anatomy while Deke and Sasha turned red.

"That's a squirrel," muttered Deke. "He insists on calling Dawn that."

"Who's Dawn?"

"Old friend," said Brew while Deke slammed the magazine shut.

"I can't believe how crude you are," said Sasha in an indignant little voice. "Brew, you have this thing for…"

"Squirrel. Now do you understand the concept of 'squirrel, Sasha?'"

"I think I want to just die," said Sasha in a tiny little voice.

"That makes two of us," said Deke.

* * *

Two days later, Deke encountered Sasha again on the Central Area while he was marching off some of his demerit slip in the rain. As with West Point, Annapolis, and other service academies, the EDF Academy maintained the old tradition of requiring a cadet to spend their free time marching with a rifle as punishment when necessary. 

Like Deke, Sasha was in her midshipmens' uniform, with a raincoat on over her uniform and a plastic cover over her cap as she marched with her AK-01 astro-rifle.

"Where's Brew?" she whispered sidelong as she marched past Deke.

"He skipped church to march off what he had to do today," said Deke in a sidelong whisper as they passed.

"I'll be here next Saturday, too, to finish my last five hours," said Sasha as she passed Deke again. "All because I had to open my mouth to a Commodore."

"Hey, it could've been worse," said Deke. "Guy could have had you up on charges."

_Or my uncle could have told Nova to spank me again,_ thought Sasha miserably as she remembered a punishment Nova had imposed when she had been much smaller, and not all that long ago, either, thank to the growth rate of Iscandarians such as herself.

Sasha felt miserable as she continued to march off her last hour of this particular five-hour stretch on the Area.

"I have a question for you," said Sasha as she marched past Deke.

"Shoot."

"Is this our second date?" she whispered.

"You could say that," said Deke with a grin.

"Hey!" yelled an Anglian voice over a bullhorn. _Drop dead, Hartcliffe_, thought Deke irritably as he looked up at the officer who had pulled the duty of manning Central Area tonight as their Warden. "Yer gonna keep marchin', Wakefield, or is this some new definition of walkin' off yer punishment?"

"Keep marching," whispered Sasha.

Deke nodded and sped up.

As he continued to march, he noticed another figure among the five or six others who were forced to march tonight. It was a rather thin plebe who looked utterly miserable.

Deke recognized the face at once. _Decker_, he thought. _I wonder what he did?_

"What brings you here?" whispered Deke as he marched past Decker.

"Caruthers," whispered Decker. "My room was OK when I left last week, but when I came in, he was in there with the Tac officer and it was a mess. I think he went in there on a contraband hunt and decided to pull a ten-and-five on me for fun."

"That's illegal," said Deke.

"It's the second time this semester," whispered Decker as Deke passed him again. "I can't stand that guy and his games."

"Talk to someone," said Deke.

"What _good_ does it do?" whispered Decker in a depressed voice. "I'm probably gonna be out of here soon, anyway, the rate this is going."

"Don't give up," whispered Sasha as she marched past.

"Easy for you to say when _you're _being punished, too," said Decker. He said nothing else to any other cadet for the rest of his punishment tour of five hours that night. Given his other offenses since midterms, he knew now that with ten more demerits, he would be out of the Academy.

Decker was not in a good frame of mind that night. Neither were Deke or Sasha.

* * *

**II. BALKAL'S WAR**

**Between the Milky Way and**

**The Andromeda Galaxy**

**Planet Rotella**

**November 5, 2205**

* * *

Planet Rotella was again under heavy attack from the Comet Empire. 

The capital city of Serdana was currently being bombed by several squadrons of Cometine fighter/bombers as the Cometines had decided to conquer Rotella by wiping out the population of Serdana and decapitate the planet's military command.

The flagship of the Cometine forces was a single-deck carrier known as the _Matushka_.

The commander of the Cometine forces was a man with a thin dark-greenish beard known as Balkal. Field Marshal Balkal liked to wear a mostly black uniform, and he enjoyed destruction.

"So how goes the bombing raid?" he asked as images of the burning capital city of Serdana filled his main screen.

A helmeted pilot appeared on screen. "Sir, we have the SKERLATS missile array ready. We are ready to launch twice against Serdana, sir. It would be wise to call in the fighters. Nothing much will survive this."

"Survive _what_, sir?" asked a Lieutenant who came in and saluted General Balkal.

"Our thermonuclear missiles," said Balkal. "We could use antimatter missiles, granted, but I prefer nuclear weapons in a case like this."

"Why? They're so inefficient, sir."

"Yes, but this will leave their capital uninhabitable for the next one hundred years," said Balkal as he laughed. "You recall that these are especially dirty warheads, of

course. I want the Rotellans to never dare raise their damned heads again!"

A moment later, the pilot said, "Sir, we have the city center in our sights now. Are the fighters out of the way?"

"They are, Denlitz," said the Lieutenant.

"Now, it's just you and your wingman, Denlitz," said Balkal. "Fire those missiles and then clear the accursed area! I want to see the damned fireworks!"

Balkal then laughed, caring nothing at all for the approximately four million Rotellan lives he was about to wipe out in a moment.

"Discharging missiles, sir," said Sub-Lieutenant Denlitz with an evil sneer. "Here they go!"

He fired, followed by his wingman.

Both Scorpion fighter-bombers then roared out of the area as their missiles roared down, skimmed the ground, and then slammed straight into the Rotellan seat of government.

There was a great and morbid nuclear explosion as the two hydrogen warheads went off and filled the city area with light and radiation. Denlitz and his wingman just barely escaped the holocaust as the city of Serdana was blasted into nothingness.

A moment later, where there had been millions of men, women and children, there was now burning corpses and bubbling, steaming molten rock and glass. By nightfall, the area was a glass-covered radioactive desert.

"Well, sir?" said Denlitz over his link to Field Marshal Balkal.

"Nice job," laughed Balkal. "Very, very nice job. We should be receiving the surrender of whatever Rotellan forces are left within about a day or two. They'd never dare resist us after a show like _that_."

"And if they continue, sir?" said Denlitz.

"That is why we have the antimatter missile ships," said Balkal.

"Sir," said the lieutenant on the _Matushka's_ bridge. "Princess Invidia's orders were that the planet was to remain intact. Well, mostly intact, at any rate."

"Oh, those," grumbled Balkal. "Very well, Gegen. Well, let's see what else we can do to terrorize this lot, hmm? Any other cities within range?"

* * *

Three days later, a report came in to Invidia and her staff aboard the _Eritz Gatlantis _city-ship, which was now cruising near the edge of the Andromeda Galaxy. 

Dyre and his men stood looking at a familiar galactic region map as Balkal's voice droned on, saying, "_Reports are that the Rotellan city regions of Serdana, Povlitz, and Orgeral are now essentially decimated. Estimated casualties are fifteen to twenty million. The resistance has slowed down to a halt as the Rotellans try to relieve the cities we destroyed. The capitulation of the planet is now almost a mere formality._ "

"Fine news," said Dyre as he looked up towards Invidia on her throne. "The Tenth Region is almost subjugated."

"I grow weary of this," said Invidia. "I wish we were closer to Earth."

"You know that the other Houses want us to secure your father's old domains first before trying again for Earth."

"The day we will be on the other side of that map back in the Milky Way will not come too soon," snapped Invidia. "I want you to recall Balkal and decorate him; to encourage him, of course. Then, I want that planet back in our hands. And we had better not delay too long. I don't want them laughing at us."

"Of course, Princess," said Dyre. "Anything…anything to please you," he said as he drew close to the throne. "I hope you remember that…and our old relationship."

"You will _not_ come to my apartments tonight, Dyre," hissed Invidia.

"Why not, Princess?"

"I have other business to tend to," she said as she quietly grasped his hand. "Now, go. Go before I lose my patience and think about putting your head on the wall in my quarters along with the others."

"Of course," said Dyre, who turned a sickly shade of green reminiscent of rotting pea soup at that hissed comment from his Princess…and his lover.

* * *

**III. DECKER'S GREAT LEAP**

**Earth**

**Derek and Nova Wildstar's Home**

**Friday, November 8, 2205**

**2018 Hours: Earth Time**

* * *

Nova Wildstar sat in her living room, slowly playing Bach's _Piano Concerto in A Minor_ while Derek sat in a chair, looking over a notebook he had brought home that day from Earth Defense Headquarters. He didn't look happy. 

"What's wrong, Derek?"

He didn't answer. Nova shut her eyes and played on a bit more; the solemn music matching her mood as a fire roared in their fireplace.

_I wish I knew what was wrong_, Nova thought. _He's barely talked since he came home today. Derek, why won't you open up and tell me what's in that notebook?_

Nova had a clue a moment later as he stood up, shook his head, and threw the notebook at the floor with a snapped curse. Then, he glared in Nova's direction and shut his eyes.

"That was uncalled for," said Nova in a low voice as she stopped playing.

"Damnit, I know," said Derek.

"What's in that notebook? Or are you forgetting we have the same military clearance, Commodore, _sir?_"

"You know those things you've been buying?"

"What things?" Nova snapped, her denim skirt flipping around her legs as she walked towards her husband.

"The things for the spare room. The room I've seen you looking at for the past few days."

"The things for the baby?" she said.

"You mean…you're…"

"Not yet," said Nova both dolefully and angrily as she stared down at her toes.

"I see. Why am I both sad and relieved at the same time?"

"The sad part I get, Derek. Why are you relieved?"

"The notebook. Okay. I didn't want to tell you, but it's a digest of all of the wave motion radio traffic our patrol ships have been picking up…in just the past week on the old Cometine 756 Gigahertz band. And they're barely encoding it. It's almost like they _want_ us to pick it up."

"What's the news?"

"Well, Invidia's back in power again. Intelligence has confirmed that. And they're after Zordar's old realms again…in a very systematic manner…like they're getting closer; planet by planet…world by world."

"Derek…does that mean we might have to…?"

"Possibly. They're saying it could be weeks…months…years…no one knows. And the Gamilons and Rikashans are getting the same traffic; but their embassies aren't reporting any more in the way of concrete intelligence than we have. Cha'rif's sent a report through his ambassador. As for Desslok…no one can get hold of him."

"So, what do we do? Can we have a child right now, in this uncertain world?"

"I…I don't know, Nova," said Derek as his eyes filled with tears. "That's why I wasn't talking. I had no idea how to tell you."

Nova nodded dolefully. "I still have the contraceptive ampoule in the cabinet. The shot doesn't hurt me that much. I've gotten good at it, even though I hate needles."

"You're a nurse, and you hate needles?"

"Yes, when they go in me, that is."

"Hold off on it for tonight, Nova……I…I…"

"What?" said Nova as she hugged her husband. "You don't want me tonight?"

"I do…but…I don't know if we should have a baby…now.""

"Yes. We'd better hold off on that…for now…," said Nova as she began to unwrap her pre-loaded contraceptive syringe. "I can always get the shot neutralized, you know, if…things look better."

Derek nodded. He did not look happy.

"Well, so much for Operation Stork," he said.

"For now," Nova said softly. "Just for now…"

At that, Derek hugged his wife…and they shared a deep, doleful, sad, but very sweet kiss.

* * *

Later that evening, around 2230 Hours (it was, after all, a Friday night) Sasha came by Deke and Brew's room again. In the past few weeks, she had been there quite a bit, although she had learned to ignore Brew's posters. It wasn't that they mattered much, anyway. 

Deke was somewhat more interesting to her than the posters.

"So, do you have that concept down?" said Sasha quietly as she and Deke worked together on their navigation homework.

"Sure do," said Deke. "Sasha, why are you looking at me like that?"

"I have some great news," she said. "I'm going to do something interesting on Monday. My aunt talked me into it, of all things."

"What could be so interesting that your Aunt would have to talk you into it?" said Deke.

"Yeah, she's probably ninety years old and has a zillion warts, hon," said Brew as he sat at his desk writing out a pilot's attack scenario bit by bit on his computer as part of an assignment.

"Brew, my Aunt happens to be very attractive," said Sasha with a sniff. "And she's younger than you think."

"Introduce me to her, then," said Brew.

Sasha made a pair of fists and sighed. "My Uncle wouldn't like that much."

"Which Uncle?" said Brew.

"The one her aunt's married to, ya stupid porcupine," said Deke.

"Hey, I resemble that remark!" said Brew.

"You sure do," said Sasha with a grin.

"Are you making fun of my elegant Nubian looks, Miss Sasha?"

"No."

"What's the big news?" asked Deke as he sipped at his soda.

"I'm going out for the cheerleading squad!" said Sasha. "First-round tryouts are Monday!"

Deke's reaction shocked Sasha. He started and spat his soda out on the floor as he gasped.

"Deke!" said Sasha. "Are you aware you just coughed soda into my lap? What's wrong with you? You look like you've just seen a _ghost!_"

"I think he just has," said Brew in a serious tone of voice as he looked towards Deke's desk at Dawn's picture.

"Deke, why do you look that sick?" said Sasha. "And why are you looking at your old girlfriend's picture?"

"Sasha…Dawn….Dawn was a cheerleader."

"Did something happen to her when she was on the squad?" asked Sasha as she came up behind Deke and hugged him. This was behavior that Brew had been seeing a lot of lately, and he was not particularly unhappy with it.

"Nope…that's when the whole thing began to go sour…when she was a cheerleader. We started getting a bit distant about then. It was a slow, creeping process, but…"

"Deke, I won't get like that…"

"But there's the practices…and…you…in that short little skirt, and…."

"So? I dance in less in PT class."

"Not with half the Corps of cadets leering at you, Sasha…"

"Deke, I think you're getting jealous," said Sasha.

"Jealous?" said Brew. "Hey, this is cool shit…"

"Brew, leave it," said Deke.

"Leave what?"

"You know….I don't want to talk about it," said Deke as he grabbed Dawn's picture and threw it into his desk drawer. Then, for good measure, he locked the desk drawer.

"Why'd you do that?" said Sasha. "She was pretty."

"Was," said Deke. "I stress the word _was_. And I don't wanna talk about it, okay? Have fun on the cheerleading squad! Sis, boom bah, rah, rah, RAH!" yelled Deke. He glared at Sasha and stalked out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

"What's his problem?" said Sasha.

"You just touched a nerve," said Brew. "He's still very touchy about Dawn. He…"

At that, someone started banging at the door.

"What's going on?" said Sasha.

"Hey!" yelled Brew. "Deke, you lock yourself out? What's the problem? Deke?"

Brew opened the door, only to find a sophomore in white and yellow breathing hard as he looked in at Brew and Sasha.

"What's going on?" said Brew. "Hey, Rusk, what's with you? Out runnin' PT in your dress uniform?"

"Sir, I just got back in from a dance. Fifth floor's going nuts. Wakefield's already on his way up with a crowbar."

"Crowbar? Fifth floor?"

"Sir, you've gotta get the tac officer on duty tonight. I mean the duty officer. That'd be Hemsford tonight; the big dude."

"What's wrong?" yelled Brew.

"It's a shitstorm, sir, it's…"

"What's wrong?" yelled Brew as Sasha shut her eyes.

"Decker," he said. "That stupid-ass plebe Decker got called up to Caruthers' room on the fifth deck. You know, the asshole guy. They were making him do pushups for the past hour."

"Hazing crap," said Brew. "Study time starts at twenty-two hundred; even crappy-ass plebes have to be allowed to study. What happened?"

"There was a fight. Decker…"

"He barricaded himself into his room," said Sasha. "And…he's having _horrible _thoughts!"

"How'd you know that?" said Rusk. "That's exactly what is going on. There was a fistfight, and Decker got written up, and he's going nuts."

"Just trust me," snapped Sasha. "I know. Would you two leave the room, please? You have to get Hemsford, anyway. I need to make a phone call."

"Phones are shut off at 2230," said Brew.

"I'll get it kept on," snapped Sasha, as she remembered a code she had only had to use once before here at the Academy. She would need it for the operator. "Please go. NOW!"

Brew and Rusk left the room as Sasha picked up the phone and dialed "0-9" for an outside line.

An operator came on and said, "I see you're calling from a midshipman's room. Outside calls are against regulations after 2300…"

"This is an emergency, ma'am!" Sasha said breathlessly.

"Miss, I'm a duty officer, and you're going to be getting Midshipman Marrable in a lot of trouble if…"

"I'm also a midshipman, ma'am," said Sasha.

"You know better. What's your service number?"

"2129692042. But, if you pull up that code, you will see a notation on there for "Code Sapphire". This is a Code Sapphire emergency call, and you have orders to let me through at any time when I invoke this code. There's a profile on me…on the lower part of the screen it…."

"Do I, now…I've had enough of this cadet crap, I…"

The Lieutenant pulled up Sasha's number and saw a small notation that read "**Sapphire-Special Medical Profile"**. Curious, she hit the small radio button on the PC screen with her mouse, and a strange message appeared on her computer screen. It read:

**SAPPHIRE CODE INVOKED**

**This Midshipman allowed special comm-net access in emergency at any time**

**MOST CONFIDENTIAL**

**BY ORDER COMMANDANT'S OFFICE**

**Which Comm Node Desired by cadet?**

**Watchtower**

**Shuri Castle**

**Small Diamond**

**Great Diamond**

**Ask cadet her wish then connect.**

"Okay," said the Lieutenant, thinking that this midshipman had some physical problem; a very few she knew of had such arrangements; she had never known this cadet had such an arrangement before because she'd never accessed her PC Personnel File. "What is your wish?"

"Watchtower," said Sasha.

The Lieutenant nodded, and hit the cursor prompt near "Watchtower."

The screen then went blank and the duty officer lost the call as a brief message "**CALL OVERRIDEN AND SCRAMBLED**" flashed across the screen and then disappeared along with Sasha Petrovsky's Midshipman File.

Another call came in for the Lieutenant a moment later, and then she spent most of the night busy getting emergency personnel as the beginning of what would become known as The Decker Incident flashed across the consciousness of the staff of the Space Fighters' Training School.

But, in the meantime, Sasha was calling somewhere else. Disguised under a so called "medical profile" was a secret system that was basically a panic button for a Princess. It was there on the insistence, not of the Princess, but of her mother, Queen Starsha.

While Sasha had other means of communicating with her mother that did not involve a telephone, they were chancy, so she also had alternate means to reach her or others in her life when she truly needed help.

Right now, she had to share her psionic impressions AT ONCE with her Uncle and Aunt…

…so she could save a life. She just _had_ to.

* * *

In their bedroom in the Great Megalopolis, Derek Wildstar lay in his bed half-asleep and skin-to-skin with his wife as she cuddled naked and innocent in his arms, musky with the scent of recent romance. She was also almost asleep, and was slowly kissing her husband's chest when the phone rang. 

"**DAMNIT**!" yelled Commodore Wildstar as the ringing visiphone hammered into his consciousness like a jackhammer. "Who the Goddamn hell is that?"

"It's almost midnight," said Nova in a slurred voice as she pushed herself up off Derek's chest, giving a certain part of his anatomy an affectionate little tweak as she grabbed for the phone. "You get it."

"You."

"No, you, silly," said Nova. be…."

Derek nodded and took it. "Hello? SASHA?"

"Sasha?" cried Nova. She grabbed the receiver from her husband. "Honey, what's wrong?"

"Nova, I need you and Uncle Derek right away! Just had this awful impression! You know Cadet Decker?"

"Yes," said Derek as he grabbed the handset out of his wife's hands. Nova kissed him and got out of bed, flying like a bird to grab the gauze East-Indian style nightgown that was discarded near the foot of their bed.

"He had a fight with Caruthers, and he's just earned enough demerits for expulsion! He's barricaded himself into his room and wants to kill himself!"

"Isn't Hemsford on it, yet?"

Sasha said, just as another midshipman yelled into the room what was going on (she knew it first because of her Iscandarian clairvoyance) "He's refusing to talk to anyone! He wants you or Nova! You're the only ones he'll talk to!"

"Where _is_ he?" cried Nova as she pulled on her flimsy garment and threw a set of pajama bottoms at her husband.

Another midshipman yelled, "Holy shit, the plebe's up on the balcony and he's gonna **jump!**"

"Up on the balcony, fifth deck…going to jump…"

Derek nodded. "Hit two for Shuri Castle, Sasha. Get us flight clearance ASAP from HQ; we're using our personal Jet Recon Boat. We'll be there in ten minutes."

"Understood," said Sasha. She then jiggled the phone button once as she reached EDF Headquarters to put events into motion.

* * *

At the doorway to Decker's room, everything was pandemonium. 

Wakefield had arrived about three minutes before Sasha. There was a crowd near the room, and Marine Lieutenant Hemsford, late of the Star Force, was already there, barking in a stentorian voice, "What _is_ this shit, Midshipman?" Hemsford was holding the crowbar that Wakefield had provided.

"Sir, Caruthers and his bunch made me do pushups until I shit my pants!" screamed Decker in a wild, high, crazy voice. "Then I hit them, and they wrote me up!"

"Mister Decker, we don't need this. You know the regs," said Hemsford. "You're under hack as of now, and you'll most likely be a civilian again first thing in the morning, son. Let us get you some help in the meantime. Nuthin' like this is worth losing your damn life for. Let us in. NOW."

"Screw you! I wanna die and that's it! I wanna let Wildstar know why I wanna die, him or Nova. Then I wanna die! If I can't be a midshipman, Dad doesn't want me in the house again!"

Another cadet used the crowbar on the door. "Sir, he's got some kind of weight against it. I can only get this door to budge a little."

"It's his desk," said Sasha as she came up.

"You're sure?" said Wakefield as he looked at Sasha.

"Look through the peephole; you'll see it," said Sasha, not wanting to give away how she knew it was the desk. "Logic dictates only his desk would be heavy enough to block that door, Wakefield."

Then, he whispered to her, "I'm sorry. About…you know…"

"We'll discuss it later, Deke," she said with a small smile. Then, Sasha cried, "Decker, hold on before you do anything rash. I've called Commodore Wildstar and Lieutenant Commander Wildstar! They're on their way."

"You'd better be right! I'm on the balcony! I'm gonna jump if anyone tries any crap!" screamed Decker. Then, in the background, Hemsford and Wakefield heard voices chanting, "JUMP, Decker! JUMP! JUMP! JUMP! JUMP! No one cares about you, ya damn lousy piece of shit plebe!"

"Who the hell is that?" barked Hemsford.

"Caruthers," hissed Wakefield as Marrable ran up with Rusk. "Those guys are in another room someplace; probably on another balcony facing the quad."

"Mister Marrable, Mister Rusk, Mister Chen," barked Hemsford. "Spread out and find Mister Caruthers and his asshole buddies Mister Perkins and Mister Smith! Then inform them they're under arrest and are to report to their quarters until I get there; or until the Commodore shows up!"

"Aye, aye, sir!" snapped the three midshipmen. They saluted and left.

"If you break down that door, I'm gonna jump!" yelled Decker.

"How can Wildstar or Nova get in to see ya if you won't let anyone in?" yelled Hemsford. Another officer, named King, ran in and said, "Mister Decker, you're under arrest! Don't make us come in and get you!"

"I know I'm out! Don't rush me ya jackass, or I'll JUMP!" screamed Decker.

A moment later, Marrable showed up leading Perkins by one wrist. "I got him, sir, but he won't tell us where his buddies are."

"Midshipman Perkins, I give you a direct order to tell us where Midshipmen Caruthers and Smith are," yelled King.

"I ain't tellin no one, sir," said Perkins, who sounded belligerent and drunk. "I invoke my right o' silence."

"You don't have one," said Hemsford. "As of now, you're suspended," he said as two more cadets on the Provost Marshal's detachment grabbed him by the arms. "Take that guy right to Boarder's Ward. He'll have his trial in the morning."

Perkins glared at everyone as he was frog-marched out of the barracks.

A moment later, Commodore Wildstar and Lieutenant Commander Wildstar ran up the steps. "What's going on here?" demanded Derek as he helped Nova through the press of officers and cadets. The two higher-ranking officers were quite a sight; Derek wore his pajama bottoms and an old Academy sweatshirt went barefoot; his hair was very mussed up and he was unshaven. Nova wore her short nightgown and flip-flops with a flight jacket over everything; Sasha saw hints of dark circles of sleeplessness under her eyes.

King saluted Commodore Wildstar and said, "Sir, we have an unbalanced plebe accused of fighting with three of his superiors. He's barricaded himself in his room and is making suicidal gestures on top of his balcony and has refused several direct orders from officers to stand down. He was demanding you and the Lieutenant Commander, sir. I'm not sure why."

"I'm one of his professors," said Nova. "He trusts me. _Mister Decker_!" cried Nova. "This is Lieutenant Commander Wildstar. I'm here to talk. Do you want to get down from there so we can talk?"

"You can talk to me from out here!" screamed Decker. "You won't get near me, any one you! They've got guard dogs, I know it! I can hear them out there! Caruthers said they'd feed me to the attack dogs, and you've got them! I'd rather die this way than be eaten by your dogs!"

"This is Commodore Wildstar," yelled Derek. "Decker, I swear to you, there are no dogs. No one here feeds midshipmen to dogs!"

"Caruthers says so!"

"Mister Caruthers is full of shit!" yelled Wakefield. "You know that!"

"Hey, steady," snapped Wildstar as he looked at Deke.

"Sir, just trying to help…" whispered Deke.

"You can best help by getting us in there," said Wildstar in a low voice. "Hemsford, you, Wakefield and Marrable are to break open that door after Nova and I talk him down from the balcony. Then we'll get him."

Rusk showed up dragging Smith a moment later. Smith looked at Wildstar and said, "Sir, Caruthers is on the third deck. I confess to having helped them haze Decker. Please take that into consideration."

"Thanks. Now get the hell out of my sight. Take this cadet to Boarders' Ward, Rusk. He's under hack."

"Yessir," said Rusk, a large blond cadet who was on the Academy's football team as a tackle.

In the meantime, inside the room, Decker yelled "I wanna see Nova or Wildstar! Now!"

"How can we get in?" said Wildstar. "You have the door barricaded. Clear the barricade and then sit down."

"I'll clear the barricade, but no one had better try to get me, because I'll be right back on the balcony again!" said Decker. He jumped down, and Wildstar, Nova, Wakefield, and Marrable heard the desk being moved. Hemsford and King prepared to back them up as they then began to kick at the door.

"I'm back up on the balcony!" yelled Decker after the first or second kick at the door. Hemsford kicked again, and the door opened.

All of them saw that Decker had opened the window in his part of the room he shared with a chair, and that he was on the edge of the balcony.

"Get down from there, son," said King.

"I'll jump! I mean it!" yelled Decker. "Lieutenant Commander Wildstar! I'll talk with you!"

"We'll talk if you sit down," said Nova.

"I'm not getting off of here," screamed Decker.

"You can sit on the edge of the balcony," said Nova. "I'll…sit with you."

Derek looked at his wife, but Nova just nodded. Then, she whispered, "Derek, you and the others hang back by the bed. I'll try to calm him down first."

"Okay," whispered Derek.

"Hurry up!" yelled Decker as he stood on the balcony's edge and raised one foot.

"You have to sit down," said Nova as she kicked off her sandals to walk over. The hem of her thin nightgown blew in the cold November breeze below her coat.

"Damn," whispered Brew in Deke's ear.

"What?" asked Deke.

"Look at that view," whispered Marrable. "She's got a BUTT, my friend. And…she's…God…I don't know what she has on under that…maybe…"

"She just got out of _bed,_" said Deke irritably.

"Yeah, she sure looks it…"

"Brew, _stop_ it," whispered Sasha as she blushed. She glanced at her aunt, and saw that a good deal of her aunt's thighs and bottom were showing as she stood on the balcony's edge near Decker. Nova grabbed a hand and slowly coaxed Decker into sitting on the balcony's edge right near her.

"Tell me," said Nova as the atmosphere remained tense. "Why do you want to die?"

"I'm being thrown out of here," said Decker through a sob. "Caruthers and his bunch won. They harassed me, made me do push-ups until I crapped myself and wet myself; then I lost it and hit them."

"They were your superior officers," said Nova. "But they will be punished for what they've done. We'll see to it."

"They were assholes. And you can't undo the regulations for me, can you?"

"No. There's not much we can do to save you now…but…"

"That's why I want to die. My father…my parents…my father….told me not to come home if I didn't survive plebe year. Since I can't go home, where can I go when I'm out of here? Heaven, maybe. Hell…most likely. And they have dogs ready to eat me if I come down from here."

"There are no dogs," said Nova. "And there are places to go if you leave here. You can get a recommendation to any civilian college on the planet; Derek and I will see to it. We can also get you exempted from your military service requirement on the grounds you couldn't take military life."

"It's a disgrace. I'd be in DISGRACE!"

"It's no disgrace if you can't handle it," said Nova as she held Decker for a moment. "Let us help you. We can even find you a place to live…a job…a…"

Commodore Wildstar and the others moved in a little closer. Nova began to help Decker off the balcony, when he happened to see the others. Sasha looked at Nova and shook her head, hard. But, Decker said, "Nova, I see the Commodore…"

"Yes, he's here…to help you…"

"And Wakefield, and Marrable, and Hemsford, and Miss Sasha Petrovsky and…and….King and all the others," said Decker. "And a _stretcher_ in the hall…and…..and…"

Decker came to his feet again, dragging Nova up with him.

"Don't come one step closer!" he screamed. "You're not gonna take me away like some loony! I'm gonna jump, and I MEAN IT!"

"Decker, no," said Nova as she grabbed his hands.

Decker howled and hit her even as Wildstar, Wakefield, and Hemsford rushed in, followed by Sasha. Nova tried to hold the struggling cadet, but he was too wild, and was too much for her.

While holding her hands and being held by her, Decker almost toppled over and took Nova with him over the edge. But, then, the cadet struck Nova again, broke free from her embrace with a crazed strength, and before Wildstar and Hemsford could get to him, he jumped.

Decker went down like a stone, falling five stories down to the quad. His head made a sickening noise like an exploding melon when it hit the concrete and shattered in a bloody mess.

When everything settled, Decker lay there face-up in a pool of his own expanding blood with a look of wonder and fright in his now-vacant eyes.

Decker had finally gotten his wish.

He was dead.

* * *

Later, as the ambulance crew cleaned up the mess below, Nova held on to Decker's desk. She had stepped off the balcony and had immediately started crying. Sasha had cried with her, and it had taken Wildstar and Wakefield working together to get the two horrified young women calmed down. Nova was still sobbing slightly, but she looked out at the quad and said, "Derek, they had better not let me see Caruthers tomorrow morning when they expel him! I might just claw his Goddamned eyes out for this!" 

"That was bloody gruesome," said Wakefield, who had looked down at the horror in the quad, and had almost thrown up. He still couldn't look.

King had just finished taking a statement from the cadets and officers present for the Academy records when the phone rang.

"Commodore, sir," said King. "It's the Commandant."

"Good evening, sir," said Derek.

"Commodore, I've just gotten word that Decker's parents, who were in town for Homecoming Formation, have come by to identify the cadet's remains. We can't release them yet since he needs to be given to a Medical Examiner for an inquest, even though it was pretty obvious how he died. The parents want to talk to someone who was there. Would you mind, Wildstar?"

"I can come, and so can Nova. Just give us some time to get sort of decent, sir. We arrived here in our nightclothes."

"I have some things in my quarters that'd fit you, sir," said King in the background. Sasha then spoke up and said, "Ma'am, I have some things you can wear with your flight jacket."

"Thanks," said Nova. "Tell the Commandant we'll be there in a few minutes. Where are they, Derek?"

Commodore Wildstar spoke to the Commandant, who said, "They're at the infirmary. The body's there under guard."

"Sir, I need to speak to the Commandant," said Hemsford.

Derek nodded and left with King after kissing Nova quickly on the cheek. Hemsford took the phone and said, "Sir, we need details to get these damn midshipmen to bed. I see cadets squeezing up to the crime scene tapes for a look."

"Order a formation on Central Area, and have an officer announce the death and then order all midshipmen back to their quarters."

"Yessir," said Hemsford. He looked at Marrable and Wakefield and said, "You two men are excepted from the order to hit the rack for now; betcha can't sleep."

"That's an understatement, sir," said Wakefield.

"I know about what you guys did in the summer for Wildstar with those Josiahites. I'll bet this is worse."

"It _is_ worse, sir," said Brew.

"Hell of a lot more senseless," said Wakefield.

"There's coffee up here," said Hemsford, who had brewed some coffee in Decker's small pot when it was determined there was no evidence on his bedside table that had to be secured. "Want some while we shoot the shit?"

"Yeah, thanks," said Wakefield. "What time is it, now, sir?"

"0300," said Hemsford as he poured the coffee. "Now, as a Marine, I've seen people get killed every which way short of I dunno what in the Gamilon War, the fracas with the Cometines, and the business with the Rikashans and Technomugar. But this, people, this tops the list for senseless and sick."

"He couldn't take the hazing, sir," said Brew as he was handed some coffee.

"I _know_ that," said Hemsford as the late-night light from outside shone against his shiny chocolate-colored bald pate as Academy officers and cadet officers yelled out commands outside as they began to gather the Corps of Midshipmen on Central Area. "The thing is, who tried to stop it?"

"I did," said Nova as she abruptly entered the room with Sasha in tow. The cadets saluted her, but then she just laughed and said, "Even though I have something on with my flight jacket over it, I still look like a fright."

"You look fine, ma'am," said Hemsford as he looked Nova over from her still somewhat-mussed up hair to her flight jacket, with a blue blouse and skirt of Sasha's on under it along with the white thongs she had worn here. "So, what's this about that you tried to stop it?"

"I reported it to some other Academy officers weeks ago," said Nova. "That was after I talked with Decker about the hazing, which was pretty bad, even then. I plan to let the Commandant know everything tonight before I go to bed. They really should take this more seriously."

"Fine line, ma'am, between training and harassment," said Hemsford. "One is honorable, the other is…"

"I know the difference," said Nova. "Oh, Deke, can I have that baseball bat over there by you? Is it part of evidence, Hemsford?"

"Nope."

"Ma'am, it's not Decker's," said Deke as he handed Nova the bat. Someone left it here. Why, ma'am, would you need a baseball bat at 0300 on the Academy campus? You're safe here."

"Not from IQ-9 if he shows up," said Nova. "He has this weird thing for me whenever I have a skirt on…too bad your pants weren't clean, Sasha."

"Sorry, ma'am," said Sasha with a blush as Nova toted the bat. "See you later."

"Later," said Nova after she took some coffee and drank it. "Darn, this coffee's weak," she muttered as she drank and then left.

"I feel sick," said Sasha. "We shouldn't have seen that tonight."

"A-men," said Brew.

"Sasha…sorry about the argument before," said Deke. "Hope you…have fun when you go out for cheerleading." _Although I hope you don't make it,_ he thought to himself. _This is reminding me too much of Dawn. Waaay too much of Dawn for comfort_.

"It's okay," said Sasha. "Seeing what we saw…well, I'm not much interested in talking about pom-poms tonight."

"Understood," said Deke. He looked out in the distance and said, "It looks like they're all in Central Area, people, all in uniform, too. I think the message is about to come out."

Finally, the speaker system across the campus came to life. "_Ladies and Gentlemen of the Corps of Midshipmen_," said the voice of the Commandant over all of the speakers. "_You may have heard rumors; and I regret to inform you that Midshipman Fourth Class James Reginald Decker, Class of 2209, died tonight in a tragic suicide caused by personal problems. These problems were caused by hazing in the training process, hazing which is forbidden by regulations. Those responsible for driving Mister Decker to this point will be standing trial in my office by first light tomorrow morning. The Training Cadre and the Corps of Midshipmen will join together momentarily in a moment of silence in memory of Mister Decker when "Taps" is played. Unfortunately, this is the second time we have gathered together like this during this semester; the first time was when Midshipman First Class Michelle Connolly died in that tragic flight training accident at the beginning of the semester. Let us pray that we have no more deaths here on campus this semester as we pray for the eternal rest of these cadets. Order, Ten-SHUN_!"

The Corps of Cadets snapped as one to attention; in Decker's room, even Deke, Brew, Sasha, and Hemsford snapped to as a bugler began to blow "_Taps_." _Second damn time this damn semester_, thought Deke as he stood in silence. _Things were never this weird around here until now…except when they almost threw me out of here over Dawn, that is. I wonder where else this is gonna lead? When is it gonna end? When is the bad karma gonna end?_

* * *

In the meantime, in the infirmary, Decker's mother Phyllis was crying and coughing as she tried to get the last image of her son's ruined face out of her mind. The body bag had to be opened, just slightly, if only for a moment, so that Decker's father Aaron could identify the remains along with his wife. 

"I'm so sorry," said Nova as she patted Phyllis Decker on the shoulder. "That's all you have to see of him for tonight….until he's cleaned up and put back together…that is," said Nova, who had viewed the entire body and guessed that restoring his remains for a viewing would be impossible. "Then, you can decide…"

"I've already decided," snapped Aaron Decker as he lit a cigarette with a harsh, angry gesture. Commodore Wildstar couldn't help noticing that even at 0320 in the morning, the thin, arrogant looking North Carolinian had on a three-piece suit. "I've decided I want no part of this. Phyllis, he was your son. You raised him to be a baby. I tried to toughen him up, but it didn't work. So, people, I am refusing to accept the body, and I am refusing to arrange a funeral."

"_What_?" hissed Phyllis in shock.

"I don't believe it," said Commodore Wildstar.

"Sir, I know you're in shock," said Nova. "But…he was your son…"

"I stress…he _was_ my son. I believe in God, Christ, and in the fact that a man must die and face the Judgment. He has been judged, and he is burnin' in Hell now for killing himself. Saul was sent to Hell for suicide. So was Judas. Phyllis, you know Pastor Michelson will want no part of a suicide. This boy is as lost as anyone can be. And, I am washing my hands of him. Let's go home. We have no reason for being here."

"Sir, what about his funeral arrangements?" said Nova.

"Let him belong to the state. You can _cremate_ him or something," snapped Aaron. "Or you can give him to science. Looks like he's already half apart as it is!"

At that, Phyllis began to cry and keen, looking very lost in her dress and grey pumps.

"Would you like some tea?" said Nova as she took the crying woman by one hand.

Aaron Decker grabbed his wife's hand out of Nova's hand and said, "I've seen you damn people on the news! If you Star Force people are really this damn sentimental a bunch, it's a wonder you ever became warriors…like…like HE should have been," he snapped as he gestured to the body bag.

"Listen, you don't know a thing about the Star Force!" yelled Derek as he rushed forward. Only Nova kept him from punching out Aaron Decker as she stood between the two men.

"You don't know about nothin," said Aaron Decker as he turned to leave. "Phyllis, let's go! I need a drink!"

At that, Aaron dragged his wife away, slamming the infirmary door behind him.

"So what do we do?" asked the nurse.

Nova angrily wiped her eyes and looked at Derek. "What a cold-hearted man he was! Derek, let's see to it James here receives a decent funeral. I….I'll handle all the arrangements."

Derek nodded, and then hugged his wife as she turned to him and again began to weep in his arms. "His mother should be here to cry for him," said Nova in a broken, sad voice. "At least I can do it!"

"At least we can do it, Nova," said Derek Wildstar as he shut his eyes and rocked his wife, not even trying to hide his tears for the fallen cadet.

* * *

The next morning, Caruthers, Perkins, and Smith stood at attention in the Commandant's office before his desk as Commodore Derek Wildstar, Lieutenant Commander Nova Wildstar, Hemsford, King, Wakefield, Marrable, and Sasha all stood near a wall of the office in uniform with the chaplain after having been called to give their testimony to the Commandant. The Commandant stood and said to the miscreant midshipmen. "Well, people, I have heard from seven witnesses most of what happened to Mister Decker. I had you leave the office while I decided your case." 

"I have decided you will not stand trial before an Honor Board. There is no need to consider your honor, for the three of you have broken regulations that were written in black and white in the Midshipmens' Bluejackets' Manual from day one of your time here. As such, then, this is a strict disciplinary matter. For the hazing that led to Mister Decker's disgrace and suicide, I am, by my authority, about to sign the papers ordering your expulsion in disgrace. Have any of you anything to add in your defense?"

"No, sir," said the three cadets in unison as they glared at their shoes.

"Have you any comments at all?"

"Sir, why the hell are you still referring to Decker as "Mister" Decker?" snapped Caruthers. "Boy lost his rank and status as a cadet soon as he hit me," he said while he massaged his black eye.

The Commandant then paused to scrawl his signature across the first of the letters on his notepad. He then handed it to Caruthers. "_Mister_ Decker was troubled and he never came to trial, granted, but he was still a midshipman when he died, _Private_ Caruthers. This school will remember him as such, unlike you, Private."

"Private?" sneered Caruthers.

"Read your expulsion letter, Recruit Private," said the Commandant in an even tone of voice. "You signed a military contract and are still in the Earth Defense Forces, son. You leave today to enter basic training as a Space Marine at Parris Island, South Carolina. Your friends will join you there," said the Commandant as he signed the other two letters and handed them to a shocked Perkins and Smith. Then, the Commandant reached out to tear the gold rank pins off the collars of the three former cadets. He then threw them on his desk and said, "Now snap the officers and midshipmen present a proper salute; then get the hell out of my sight."

"Yessir!" said the three Marine Privates in low voices. They saluted, and then did an about-face and left as two MP's stood waiting for them outside the office door. They would process out that day under guard, and they would stay under guard until they were escorted onto a military transport plane and off Great Island in Marine fatigues later that afternoon. They would hit the rack at Parris Island that night as part of a platoon of raw Space Marine candidates. It would not be pleasant for them, since a phone call from Hemsford later that day to their soon-to-be Drill Instructor assured that they would spend twelve weeks receiving the same sort of hazing and hell that they had handed out to others.

* * *

**IV. THE BEGINNING OF A WINTER OF DISCONTENT**

**Earth**

**Shinobayara** **Cemetery**

**Tuesday November 12, 2205**

**1030 Hours: Earth Time**

* * *

"_I am the Resurrection and the Life_", said Father Likanski in a solemn voice as a slow but steady cold rain fell on the darn green tent that covered Midshipman Fourth Class James Reginald Decker's grave. Raindrops glistened sadly off the gunmetal grey metal casket as Likanski continued to read from his Bible, saying, "_he that believeth in Me, though he were dead, yet shall he live. And whosoever liveth and believeth in Me shall never die. Believest thou this? She saith unto Him, Yea, Lord; I believe that thou art the Christ, the Son of God, which should come into the world._" 

A moment later, the casket began to descend silently into its grave.

A woman with graying blond hair, who wore a black dress, stockings, and heels with a formal hat with a mourning veil that hid her face wept quietly as she threw some dirt onto the casket. "It's all right," said another woman in black, much younger, as she hugged Phyllis Decker, who was here to mourn her son…alone. The woman was Nova Wildstar, who had had to comfort Phyllis Decker both emotionally and physically in the past few days. Phyllis' face was badly bruised and some dried blood still showed under her nose. This was the remains of a beating she had received on Friday night, courtesy of her soon-to-be-ex husband, Aaron Decker, who was now in jail for spousal abuse.

James Decker lay in his casket, with his remains fixed up as best as the undertaker could do. He wore a grey civilian suit that Commodore Derek Wildstar had bought him. He and Nova were paying for the private funeral and burial themselves. Even though Decker was still technically a cadet when he had died, he had not been entitled to a military funeral. Still, oddly enough, all of Decker's pallbearers were military men in uniform; namely, Commodore Derek Wildstar, Lieutenant Patrick Hemsford, Lieutenant Keeshawn King, and Lieutenant Bryan Hartcliffe, along with Midshipmen Deke Wakefield and Jere Marrable. The Commandant of the Space Fighters' Training School had also shown up, along with Nova and Sasha. Sasha stood beside Deke as Father Likanski intoned Scripture about "_For dust thou art, and unto dust shalt thou return. Let us pray._" The pastor then began to intone a final prayer over the grave.

Sasha, who was wearing a black dress and boots for the first time in her life, looked at Deke and whispered, "I don't like funerals."

"Me neither. I was at too many of them; saw my father, my mother, my sister all being remembered for the last time. Too damn many people close to me have died. I can't take it."

"Let me help," whispered Sasha.

"I'll try," said Deke as he squeezed Sasha's hand wanly and then looked, not at her eyes, but at the casket in its grave.

Nova then helped Phyllis cast a lily into the grave. It missed, bouncing off Nova's wet and muddy black boot instead. Nova then gently picked up the lily and tossed it for Phyllis, shutting her eyes under the black beret she wore as tears ran down her cheeks. Derek then cast a lily into the grave, followed by Hemsford, King, Bryan Hartcliffe, Angie Hartcliffe (who shivered in a thin black dress under her black coat; Phyllis thought that Angie looked a little undignified in heels and black net hose, but she didn't dare say much), and then all of the other mourners cast flowers into the grave. Deke was the last one, and he shook his head and stared at the casket for a minute as Sasha got him to turn away from the grave.

Deke walked like a living ghost beside Sasha to one of the funeral air-limos (also in black). He shut his eyes and sat in a funk for most of the drive to the Wildstar house, where Nova had prepared a buffet for the mourners.

* * *

Later that day, Deke still sat in silence beside Sasha on a love seat in the Wildstars' fine living room while Nova, with her wet boots, coat and hat off, sat in stockinged feet curled up beside her husband with some white wine in her hand. "So tell us how you two met," said Nova in a soft voice while Father Likanski sat nearby in an armchair, trying to quietly counsel the grieving Phyllis Decker, who had refused to eat any of the food Nova had made up for the funeral party. 

"It's sort of funny," said Sasha in a quiet, gentle voice.

"I don't feel like discussing anything right now," said Deke in a low voice. "Sasha, I'm tired."

"How could you be tired?" asked Sasha with concern in her eyes.

"This whole day…everything…I'm just down. Nova, I don't mean any disrespect; how can you even be halfway pleasant today?"

"Sometimes when you give to those who are mourning and try to make them feel a little better….well…sometimes, it helps. It's usual in my family to have a dinner for those who've been left behind after a funeral. I'm sorry that Phyllis couldn't have arranged it for herself, but…"

"I couldn't even put my dress on right today," said Phyllis Decker in a very depressed voice. "I can't believe Aaron could be so _callous_!"

"If ya want, luv, I'll go to jail and kick his arse for ya," said Bryan Hartcliffe in what was meant to be a helpful voice.

"That wouldn't help," said Phyllis. "It sure wouldn't help bring Jimmy back."

"No, it wouldn't," said Father Likanski as he sipped at some club soda. "You know that God said that vengeance was His."

"I hope He makes Aaron suffer in that jail," sniffed Phyllis. "And I hope that He makes those awful cadets suffer for what they did to him!" She then looked straight at Brew with accusing eyes. "If I knew you midshipmen were like this; I never would have let Jimmy go to that damned disgusting school!"

"We aren't _all _like that," said Brew in a solemn voice. "Most of us aren't like that at all, matter of fact. They drummed those guys right out of there."

"That's right," said the Commandant in a low voice. "Those boys are still in the military, but we're making sure they pay for what they did to your son, Mrs. Decker. I'm so sorry."

"I hope you are," said Mrs. Decker in a low voice. "I really hope you are."

"We're as sorry as any of us can be," said Commodore Wildstar. Then, the phone rang.

Nova got up and padded away to answer it. A moment later, she called Derek to the phone.

"Hello?" said Commodore Wildstar.

"Wildstar," said the unmistakable voice of Commanding General Singleton. "We've just received bad news."

"What, sir?"

"Are there people there?"

"Well, yes…mostly military…sir…we're holding a funeral luncheon for that midshipman who died the other day at the Academy. What's up?"

"Is the Commandant there?"

"Yessir, he is. There's only one civilian here, as a matter of fact; the cadet's mother. What is it, sir?" said Wildstar as Nova looked over with some interest.

"The _Yamato_ may have to take off again before Christmas."

"She's still in refit; but we can speed it up, I'd guess. What happened to the _Arizona?_ Captain Venture was on patrol."

"That's the bad news. We received a transmission from the _Arizona_ this morning from out near Barnard's Star. It was fragmentary, then it went silent. The _Arizona_ was under attack."

"From whom, sir?"

"The Cometines. A General of theirs known as Balkal was behind the attack. Captain Venture relayed a message before we lost contact."

"What was the message?"

"Princess Invidia has formally declared war on Earth, which they desire to reclaim. The _Arizona _was to be the first target; they want to destroy the _Yamato_ next."

"They do?"

"They challenged you to meet them at Barnard's Star in eight of our weeks for another round. Balkal says they will beat you. And to make matters worse; the Gamilon Embassy still has no idea what has become of Desslok, Astrena, Dellar, or Talan. It looks like we're being beaten all around."

"Sir, that's not likely. We'll…..sir…is the _Arizona_…?"

"Missing…presumed lost. Venture said there were over a hundred ships and their wave motion gun was damaged. They were trying to warp out…when…when…we lost contact."

Derek's eyes shut; tears ran out as he thought of the dire possibility that his best friend, Mark Venture, might now be dead.

"Sir, " said Wildstar. "They won't beat us. I'll make sure of it."

"That's what I wanted to hear," said Singleton. "Good luck."

"Thanks."

* * *

**END OF BOOK TWO "TREACHERY"**

**TO BE CONTINUED WITH BOOK THREE -- "A ROOT OF BITTERNESS"**


End file.
